Broken and Mended
by 2queens1prince
Summary: A Henry and Elizabeth origin fic. Dark themes. Rated M for sex, violence and abuse.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: The idea for this story has been floating around in my head for a long time, and I finally mustered the nerve to write it. It is a generally accepted fact in the MSec fandom that Henry McCord is the ideal man. He's strong, smart, good looking, and inherently in tune to his girlfriend/wife's needs. He's caring, thoughtful, always respectful and every other fabulous adjective you want to throw at him.

In many social media platforms, I read posts from women looking for their Henry McCord. I hate to break it to them, but they aren't going to find their Henry McCord, at least not yet, unless by chance they are looking for a 50 year old man that's been married half his life. There are lots of great twenty and thirty-something guys out there, but they aren't Henry McCord. They have to live a lot of life and make more than their fair share of bad decisions. They can grow into a Henry, but it takes time and love of a good woman, who refuses to give up on them.

This story is a love story, but not the cutesy, fluffy love story that we often get. It's the story of bad circumstances and hard times and how with commitment, love can still win and Henry McCord can still become Henry McCord, even if he didn't start out that way.

With all that being said, this story is AU. The characters evolve into the ones we know and love, but they don't start out there, so yes, some of how I'm writing them will seem OOC. I would argue that in the real world, many couples deal with similar problems, although maybe not to the extreme that we see in this story I would love to engage in discussion, so feel free to share your thoughts.

Broken and Mended

August 1986

The city buildings rolled by slowly at first, but as the bus merged onto the interstate, it picked up speed. Henry McCord, sat in a window seat, unaware of the beautiful sunset on the other side of the glass. He was staring at the bruised and bloodied knuckles that clutched his backpack. That, and the small duffle tucked under his seat, was all he'd been able to get out with. He'd naively thought that his first trip out of Pittsburgh, his home of 19 years, would bring excitement. Instead, he traded dread of one kind for dread of another. He glanced up as the last of the city passed him by. He vowed never to return.

After some mechanical difficulty, the bus finally pulled into the bus station in Charlottesville, Virginia 14 hours later. Henry pulled the duffle out from under the seat and stood. He grimaced. The long ride had made him stiff and sore. He slowly shuffled off the bus trailing the handful of others that were getting off at this stop. The bright light of the noonday sun nearly blinded him and he quickly made his way inside the building. He located the bathrooms and headed in to clean up. Henry needed to make a good impression.

Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he cringed. He looked rough, but he'd had done this enough times, he knew the drill. He turned the water all the way to hot. Much to his surprise, the water actually got reasonably warm. Fishing a hand towel from his backpack, he placed it on side of the sink before sticking his head under the stream of water as best he could. He scooped the water over the rest of his hair wetting it thoroughly. Taking the towel, he dried his hair and pulled a comb from the front pocket of his pack. He needed a haircut, but had no scissors. Henry combed his hair down the best he could, although as it dried, he knew the ends would curl up. He shrugged. It was what it was.

Henry dampened the towel and took his bags into the stall. He quickly wiped off and pulled out his set of clean clothes. He changed and shoved the dirty clothes into the duffle. He double checked the hidden pocket inside his duffle. His cash was there as well the cash in the bottom of his backpack. Remembering the money he'd had in his jeans pocket, he fished that out and put it in the new pair. He located the packet of papers he'd neatly folded. He was all set. Henry checked himself in the mirror on the way out. "Better," he mumbled, pushing the bathroom door open and out to his new life.

He found that it was a little over two miles to the University of Virginia campus from the bus station. The attendant offered to call a cab, but Henry dismissed that idea. He had limited funds and he wasn't wasting his money on a cab ride to only go a couple miles. Henry set out walking. It was a warm August day, but he took his time and didn't work up too much of a sweat.

Henry stood across the street staring at the main entrance and was in awe. Everything large and ornate. Henry felt like he was transported to a different world, his lower income Pittsburgh neighborhood, the polar opposite of this place.

The pedestrian crosswalk light changed and Henry stepped off the curb and narrowly missed getting hit by a silver BMW that hadn't stopped. Henry leaped back. "Stupid bitch," he said aloud, glaring at the blond figure in the car as it passed. The driver tapped the brakes and then drove away, pissing Henry off even more. "Well, this is a great start," he muttered and he checked carefully this time before stepping off the curb and crossing the street, stepping onto the University of Virginia campus for the first time.

"Shit!" Elizabeth Adams screeched, seeing the young man just off her front bumper. She'd been lost in her own thoughts and realized about three seconds too late that she needed to stop. Thankfully no cars had been coming, but she knew she'd scared that man to death. She hit the brakes thinking she would pull over and apologize, but seeing the man's reflection in her rearview mirror, she opted not to. She wasn't sure was that first word was, but the second word uttered was definitely "bitch," and the glare he shot at her made her shrink into the seat. Elizabeth wasn't a person that was easily intimidated, but it had already been a terribly long and emotional day and it was barely noon. She didn't think she could handle that kind of animosity right then, so she just drove on.

Elizabeth was on her fourth trip across the Quad lugging her stuff to her room. Her teeth were embedded in her bottom lip in attempt to keep herself from crying. It seemed like every other new student had family helping them move in. For the last two hours she'd watched moms, dad's, siblings and grandparents joke around with their kids carrying boxes, heading to the bookstore to pick up textbooks, making plans for dinner or coming home. It was too much.

She dropped the laundry basket on the floor of her room and pushed the door shut behind her. Flopping down on her bed, she thought back to the conversation with her Aunt Joan the day before, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"What time do you want to get there tomorrow?" Elizabeth had asked pulling out the stool and sitting at the bar in the kitchen.

Her aunt turned around and looked at her quizzically. "What time do I want to get where?" she asked.

"UVA. College. It's move in day. Don't tell me that you forgot. It's all I've been talking about for months." The anxiety in Elizabeth's voice grew incrementally with each word.

"Oh, Lizzie," Aunt Joan sighed. She walked over to the calendar and said, "See?" She pointed to the box. "It says next Saturday the 9th."

"Tomorrow is the 9th." Her eyes fell to the lap. "You aren't coming, are you?" The lump in her throat was large, but she swallowed it, pushing the hurt deep inside. She couldn't even wait for Aunt Joan's explanation of how she'd promised someone else that she would do something for them. She stood and plastered a smile on her face. "It's cool. I can do it myself. Maybe you can come visit in a few weeks or something?" She dutifully offered her aunt an out, knowing that she wouldn't likely ever set foot on the campus. Perhaps she could talk her into graduation, but probably not.

Elizabeth gave her a quick hug, and retreated to her room where boxes of college wares were stacked neatly against the wall. The wave of despair hit her hard, physically knocking her off her feet. She toppled onto the bed and silently let the tears soak her comforter as she remembered her mother's stories of how wonderful going off to college would be.

Elizabeth was a self proclaimed nerd. She read history books and classic literature for fun. She reveled in complex math equations. Science wasn't her favorite, but she could conduct a flawless chemistry experiment or expertly dissect a frog. Elizabeth had her mind set on college from the time she was in 6th grade, and Suzanne Adams fed her daughter a love of UVA.

She remembered lying cuddled together on this very bed and her mom telling her all sorts of stories about roommates and classes and new ideas and gaining perspectives and navigating the bigger world. It wasn't exactly that Elizabeth had no friends, but she had different goals than the girls her age. She did the things that all her friends did, but her mind was really looking to the future, and Suzanne nurtured it.

Then her parents died in a single car collision when she was a freshman in high school. Aunt Joan, recently widowed herself, sold her house and moved in with them to be the guardian for Elizabeth and her little brother, Will. Life moved on, and for all intents and purposes, Elizabeth moved on too. She played field hockey and was on Student Council. She filled her days with things to keep her busy, to keep her mind occupied. But each night, Elizabeth collapsed into bed and clung to the memories of her parents. In reality, she had a good and generally happy childhood, but as Elizabeth relived it each night, it became polished, idealized, and Ben and Suzanne Adams became the perfect parents and the perfect couple.

The sun rose Saturday morning, August 9th, and Elizabeth Adams stood staring at the wall of boxes in her room. This was not going to be the move in as her mother described it, nor would it be her revised version with Aunt Joan. She accepted in that moment that there wasn't anyone she could really rely on other than herself. It wasn't what she wanted, but that was her reality and Elizabeth Adams was very good at accepting reality and functioning in it.

Will helped her load her car, her father's BMW, and gave her an awkward hug when his friend, Steve pulled up in the drive. "See ya sis. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he joked, then revised his statement. "Actually, you should do a few things. Live a little Lizzie. You're going to college. You're on your own. No one to boss you around. Take advantage of that."

Elizabeth smiled at her brother. It was rare that he was ever serious and she recognized that he was trying to make an attempt. "Well, it wouldn't hurt you to try and be a little like me. You know, maybe do your homework or study for a test. Otherwise, the only place I'll ever see you is living here in the basement. She gave him a light punch in the shoulder. He shot her a wiseass grin and hopped into the car with his friend and they drove off.

Aunt Joan breezed out of the house and gave Elizabeth a hug. "Give me a call when you get your phone set up and let me know how it's going, okay?" Elizabeth nodded and they stood awkwardly for a few seconds. Then Joan motioned to the car. "I need to head out, so," Joan didn't finish her sentence, but Elizabeth quickly understood that she needed to get her car out of the way, so Joan could leave and do whatever important thing it was that she needed to do, not that Elizabeth had bothered to find out what that was. Elizabeth looked up at her house one final time and got into the car, pointing it toward Charlottesville, UVA and a life where she really was on her own.

Elizabeth sat up and forcefully wiped the tears from her eyes. "I'm being stupid," she muttered. "Getting upset about it doesn't do any good.' She stood and took a deep breath. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, Elizabeth decided she looked good enough and walked out of her room to make one last trip to her car to fetch her belongings.

Henry stood at the railing outside his dorm people watching. It had taken him all of three minutes to unpack and put his meager belongings away. He had already met a few guys and one was headed to the store later so he was going to catch a ride and buy a few necessities he didn't realize weren't provided, mainly a pillow, blanket, and towels. Then of course some soap and a package of razors. It had been two days since he shaved and not only did he look scruffy, but it was starting to annoy him.

While he waited, he just watched. Henry tried to think of how often he watched families interact with each other and wondered what they really looked like behind closed doors. He wondered if they looked like his family, although he quickly conceded that his family would never have looked like this in public either. There was a lot of joking, hugging, and a fair share of crying from the girls and usually mothers, although it stunned Henry to see some fathers shed a few tears as well. He smirked. He'd never known Patrick McCord to show much emotion at all, unless downtrodden and sullen could be classified as emotions.

It was then that he saw a blonde walk across the Quad for the fourth, or maybe it was the fifth, time. She was by herself. As far as he could tell, she was the only other person besides him that didn't have family come to help them move in There was also a group of international students, perhaps Vietnamese or Filipino, he wasn't sure, but they looked like they had been on campus a few days already. He figured they came alone, considering their families were likely on another continent.

Henry narrowed his eyes, focusing back on the young woman. He noticed that as the day wore on, her shoulders slumped a little more and her tightly knit brow indicated that she definitely wasn't happy. He had briefly thought about offering to help her, but her designer clothing and just the way she carried herself told him that she was one of "those" girls. "Those" girls were the ones his mother labeled. They were of obvious upper class heritage and they looked down on "trash" like him, at least in Vivian McCord's eyes. "Stay with your people. Don't think you are better than you are. You're nothin' and you'll always be nothin,'" she always said. Henry didn't think that should be the case. People should be judged on their own merit. That being said, his experience was that he was looked down on frequently because of where he came from and who he was.

It wasn't exactly his fault that his parents were the way they were and that he grew up in the poorest neighborhood in Pittsburgh. He was a victim of circumstances. He was doing his best to rise above it. Looking down at his still bruised knuckles, he knew he still had a way to go. It was easy in the heat of the moment to fall back on how it was in his house. Henry counted himself lucky that he spent a lot of time at Tommy's growing up, so he had an idea what a more normal family looked like. He sighed at the thought of Tommy. It had been 9 years and he still missed him so much. Henry closed his eyes and fought the onslaught of emotion and devastation he felt. His eyes snapped open and he jumped when his suitemate, Dennis, clapped him on the back. "I'm heading out to the store. You ready to go?" Henry nodded. He was definitely going to escape his past and make a new name for himself.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: If anyone wants to discuss my writing or anything else with me, feel free. I'd love to chat. I check my messages semi frequently here, but I'm on Tumblr and Twitter more often, same name. I love to read reviews, and I appreciate the fact that it takes time and effort to write them. So, even if they aren't always complimentary, I'm going to post them. :) I hope you enjoy Chapter 2.

Chapter 2

October 1986

Henry walked to the basement of the library. He was swallowing his pride in a big way, not that the math tutor would know that, but it pained him greatly to ask for help. He was six weeks into classes and was struggling. With everything. Henry quickly realized how much slack his high school teachers had given him. He was reasonably smart, but because he always had a job, and perhaps a rough homelife-although he hated to think that anyone knew about that-his teachers were quick to give him extensions or give him a second chance if he didn't do something well enough the first time. Henry didn't know at the time, but they were doing him a disservice.

College professors didn't care about your excuses and they left it up to the students to figure out what they needed to do. There was no hand holding at UVA. That's what brought him to the tutoring center. He was falling behind in his College Algebra class. In order to keep his ROTC and academic scholarships, he needed to keep his grades up. Failing was not an option because he was not going back home. His pride could go to hell because Henry McCord was not going to fail.

He gently knocked on the door before pushing it open fully. "Come on in," the voice beckoned. Henry stepped inside and set his backpack down. The tutor had her back to him, digging in a file cabinet. "Go ahead and have a seat. I just need to get the file out. You have Professor Jacobs, right?"

"Yes, that's correct." He sat down and pulled his books out. She turned to sit down beside him and they recognized each other instantly. Elizabeth knew immediately he was the guy she almost hit on move in day, but Henry didn't really see who was in the car. He remembered her from her lonesome trek back and forth across the Quad later that day. "I'm Henry McCord. You live in the Quad right? I'm pretty sure I've seen you around."

"Uh, yeah. I'm Elizabeth Adams." Elizabeth was tense. He seemed to have no recollection of the near miss, but she still vividly remembered the name calling and openly hostile glare he threw her way. She shuffled a few papers. "Alright then, then, let's go ahead and get started. I'm going to give you a placement test to kind of see where you are. There's no reason to spend time going over what you already understand. We'll start at the point where you need some help." She slid the test over to him and he got straight to work. She pulled her own math work out and started on her homework. After fifteen or so minutes, Henry sat back.

"I think that's about as far as I can go." Elizabeth looked over his work and nodded definitively.

"Let's get started then." At the end of the hour, Henry had already made great strides. "Wow! I'm impressed. You catch on really quickly," Elizabeth said by way of compliment.

Henry immediately took offense. "Is there some reason you think I wouldn't be able to do it?" His words were sharp and his glare sharper.

Elizabeth screwed up her face in confusion. "What? No. Why would you even say that?" She appraised him and the words left her mouth before she thought them through. "Are you this hostile with everyone or is it just me? I already know you hold a high opinion of me."

It was Henry's turn to be puzzled. "I don't really have an opinion of you. I barely know you and I don't like the insinuation that I somehow wouldn't be able to do the work because of where I come from."

"I don't know anything about you other than your rather pointed use of the word 'bitch' and that you had some pretty poor math instruction, but you catch on quickly." She lowered her voice. "Just so you know, I was going to stop and apologize that day, but you looked so angry. I just wasn't in a place that I thought I could deal with that. So, I am sorry that I wasn't paying attention and I nearly hit you.'

It was suddenly like all of the wind had been taken out of his sails. He stopped. "That was you? I had no idea." He remembered back to that day and all of the things that had happened and how overwhelmed he was and how angry he was when that happened. "Listen, I'm sorry for calling you a bitch. That was unnecessary and rude. I wasn't having a very good day myself." He stopped and evaluated the situation. He thought about asking her why she was alone and then thought better of it. "Do you think we could start over? I seemed to have jumped to a lot of conclusions and I'm really trying hard to change that."

Elizabeth studied him for a moment. He had an anxious look, like he was truly worried that she would think poorly of him. She extended her hand. "Hi. I'm Elizabeth Adams. I'm from Danville, Virginia. It's close to the North Carolina border."

Henry took her hand and shook it. "Hi, Elizabeth. I'm Henry McCord. I came here from PIttsburgh, Pennsylvania." They smiled at each other. "Well, I better be going." He dropped his books into his backpack. "I have to go back to my room and change. I have to be at work in an hour."

"I'm done here. Do you want to walk back together?" Elizabeth asked. Henry nodded and waited for her to gather her things. The exited the library together.

"How did you get a math tutoring job as a freshman?" Henry asked.

"Math is kinda my thing. I'm in Advanced Calculus now, so I applied and I can tutor everything up to Calculus I." She looked away from him for a moment before turning back. "So, where do you work?"

"There's a new diner on the other side of town. I help out in the kitchen for the dinner rush and I get to take a meal home plus I get paid. The only downside is the walk, but It works out okay. I have to run so many miles each week for ROTC, so I run the long way home after my shift and that gets most of my miles in. I have to walk there though or I'd be a sweaty mess, and I don't think they'd want me cooking food." Henry grinned at Elizabeth and she chuckled.

"Probably not," she said. "So you don't have a car here?" Henry shook his head. "That makes it harder to get home then, I guess," she said.

Henry met her gaze and she seemed genuine. "I have no plans to go back to PIttsburgh. Ever."

Elizabeth was shocked. "You aren't going back to see your family? That's ridiculous Henry. They're your family." She acted almost hurt.

"Not all families are created equal Elizabeth. Mine isn't a good example of what family should be." Elizabeth studied him, but didn't say anymore about it. They parted ways in the center of the Quad, each going their own way. Elizabeth paused in front of her building and watched Henry go up the stairs and into his suite. She thought about what he said about his family and about how sensitive he was to being seen as different or inferior. She wondered if that had roots in how his family treated one another. She wanted to do something nice for him, but felt that he wouldn't look favorably on anything that might be construed as charity. Elizabeth decided she would offer to drive him to work. She went to her room to toss her things down and grab her car keys. Maybe he wouldn't want a ride, but she thought it would be nice to offer.

Henry emerged from his room about 25 minutes later wearing black pants and his diner logo t-shirt under a plaid button down. He didn't really like for people to know he had an off campus job. It seemed that most students either didn't work at all or just worked a few hours a week at a work study job on campus. In Henry's case, his ROTC scholarship and academic scholarship paid for tuition, room, board and books. That was wonderful and there would be no way he could attend college without it, but there were lots of extra expenses just in toiletries, laundry, clothes and such. Henry had only been able to get away from Pittsburgh with a couple sets of clothes, so he needed to buy everything, which meant working more than just 5-10 hours a week. He'd been working 15 and sometimes 20 hours a week. It was a lot, but failing wasn't an option, so Henry was going to do whatever it took to succeed.

Henry glanced at his watch, as he started through the parking lot. He had about 30 minutes to get to work, which wasn't a problem. It was about 2 miles away and he could walk that easily. As he made it to the street, he heard a horn honk. Turning, he saw that it was Elizabeth who pulled up next to him. The electric window slid down. "I have to run to the store. Since I'm going that way anyway, would you like a ride?" She smiled widely at him and for the first time, he noticed how pretty she was. It was a detail he missed in their previous encounters.

Henry pondered it for a moment and went ahead and climbed into the passenger seat before traffic backed up behind them. "Thanks," he said. "I didn't take the time to say thank you for today. You are a good teacher." She murmured her thanks. "This is a nice car. Your parents must have good jobs to be able to afford a car like this for their kid." He immediately saw her jaw clench. "I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?"

In that moment, Elizabeth had to decide how she was going to handle this question. Henry obviously knew that he struck a nerve, so she decided to get it out in the open. He'd already said that he wasn't on the best terms with his family, so surely it would be okay. She hoped things wouldn't get all weird. "Uh, no. Not really. This car was my dad's car. I just started driving it this summer so I could take it to college." Henry started to speak, but she interrupted him before she lost her nerve. "Both of my parents were killed in a car wreck. It happened almost 4 years ago." Just saying those words, she felt like a crushing weight was sitting on her chest. How could it be four years when it just seemed like yesterday?

"I'm really sorry Elizabeth." He paused and thought about it for a moment. "I bet you have a lot of good memories with your parents." He said it wistfully, feeling guilty that he had living parents, but could recollect no memories that weren't filled with sadness and pain.

"All of them," she whispered, the ache growing. Then, quickly pushing those feelings down, she gestured ahead. "That's it, right?"

Henry nodded and she pulled in, parking at the rear of the building. "Thank you for being so understanding about earlier in the year. I was out of line, and I really am sorry." He looked at her and smiled. "Thanks for dropping me off."

She grinned back at him. "We aren't going to talk about that anymore, just like we aren't going to discuss how I'm surprised you would get in a car with me after almost becoming intimate with my front bumper." They laughed.

"Do you have to tutor tomorrow?" Henry asked. Elizabeth shook her head, and Henry continued. "I am planning to study all afternoon in the library if you'd like to join me at any time. I have to work at 5, so I'll probably leave at 4."

She smiled and nodded. "I have class at 1, but I'll come over after that." With that Henry climbed out of the car and waved. He walked into the diner feeling lighter than he had since arriving at school.

After that, they sort of fell into a rhythm. She tutored him on Mondays, they studied in the library together on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The conversation was always light and superficial. They danced around the heavy stuff, alluding to it, but never talking about it. Their relationship was Elizabeth's ideal one. She had someone to hang out with and they expected nothing from each other. The thought did cross her mind occasionally that they couldn't keep it like this forever, but it would be good while it lasted.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thank you for all your kind reviews. I am humbled and very appreciative.

Chapter 3

December 1986

Henry sat huddled in his room the day before Christmas, wrapped in a blanket. He tried to put some perspective on his situation. He was cold and a little hungry, but he had a place to stay that was inside. Thankfully there was power, so he had a jug of milk in the mini fridge in his suitemate's room next door, a box of cereal and a few bananas. There had been a sign up for people staying in the dorms over break. He hadn't signed up for fear that there would be a extra charge for staying. He couldn't afford that, so he just thought he'd hide out. Since no one in his dorm signed up, the maintenance crew turned the heat down to the bare minimum. He guessed it was about 55 degrees in his room.

It wasn't too bad he thought. He was still working at the diner, and the student union was open during normal business hours except for the holidays and weekends. Henry only actually had six days during the month long break that he had nowhere to go. It wouldn't be a great time, but he could handle it. He'd been through worse. By Christmas morning though, Henry was lonely, cold and generally irritable.

Henry wasn't a person who had a lot of free time. In fact, he hated it. When he had too much time on his hands, he thought about things, things that were best left unthought. He completed his morning workout as best he could in his room, but his thoughts kept drifting to Elizabeth. He wondered what they were or if they were anything. They spent a fair amount of time together and seemed to enjoy each other's company, but that's as far as it got. He decided that he would need to work up the courage to have a serious discussion about it when she got back to school.

Looking out the window, he realized that snow had fallen and blanketed the Quad. If Henry had been in a better mood, he would've seen the beauty in it, but what caught his eye was a light on in the building across the way. He was curious. In the two weeks since break started, it was the first time Henry had seen evidence of anyone in the Quad besides himself.

He noticed a set of footprints trailing across the snow that came from the direction of the parking lot. Whoever was in the building opposite him, just arrived late last night or early in the morning after it stopped snowing. He was watching the window when the door opened and Henry's jaw dropped when he saw it was Elizabeth. They hadn't spoke much since the week before finals. With tests, their schedules were all different so they'd been studying at different times. Upon seeing her, Henry had a deep desire to talk to her, to spend time with her, maybe have that discussion about what they might become.

Elizabeth rolled into Charlottesville around 4am. With the weather, the drive took an extra hour, but the anger and deep despair she felt kept her awake. She trudged through the snow to her room, and was happy to discover that there was heat on in her building. Either someone else was staying or since she had let the maintenance know that she would be around part of the time, they just left it on. She hadn't always been that lucky. There were a couple times in boarding school that they turned the heat down on the whole campus. She shivered remembering it. Shedding her winter wear, she flopped on her bed and fell into a fitful sleep, waking only a few hours later.

Looking out, she saw that it hadn't snowed much, if at all, since she arrived in the middle of the night. She decided to get her things out of the car. If nothing else good came from her trip home, at least she'd raided the fridge and the liquor cabinet. Elizabeth wasn't really much of a drinker, but she was angry and that was the one thing she thought might piss Aunt Joan off. Elizabeth smirked to herself. Not like Joan would ever call her on it, but the fact that she might be inconvenienced was enough to soothe Elizabeth a bit.

Elizabeth trekked out into the snow heading back to her car. She was in her own world, listening to the snow crunch beneath her feet. Her head was down watching the new tracks she made in the snow. Suddenly she felt the thump on her chest and snow exploded in her face. "What the hell?" she sputtered. She heard laughing and wiped her eyes. Looking up, she saw Henry standing on the sidewalk grinning at her. "You asshole," she said, but she felt an undeniable warmth upon seeing him and couldn't make herself be pissed off.

"I called your name twice. I was trying to get your attention. You were a million miles away." Henry took his gloved hand and brushed the snow off of her coat. "So, it's Christmas. What are you doing here?"

"I'm not talking about it." She shook her head. "But, since you're here, can you help me get some stuff from my car?" He shrugged and followed her. She popped the trunk and revealed two boxes of liquor, "Can you take one?"

Henry turned to look at her, his mouth hanging open. "Are you having a party for everyone on campus?"

"I haven't planned that far." She stared at the boxes in the trunk. Not shifting her gaze, she asked, "You wanna get drunk?" Her words sounded like she could've been joking, but her tone of voice was anything but.

"Is that a good idea?" Henry asked. He'd only been drunk a couple of times, both of which he'd been told he'd done some crazy things, but he was pretty sure that his friends were just being jerks and tormenting him.

"Probably not, but I don't care. Caring is overrated." She picked up one of the boxes and shoved it against his chest. "Let's go." He waited for her to get the second before closing the trunk.

An hour later, they were finishing off the second bottle of wine. Elizabeth was draped across her bed leaning off the edge so she could maintain eye contact with Henry, who was laid out in the middle of her floor. He'd shed most of his layers and was now wearing only a t-shirt and jeans, his pile with his shirt, sweater, vest and double layer socks over by the door with his coat. She'd spent some time tormenting him for not taking the time to find out that letting maintenance know you were staying on campus didn't cost extra money, so he could have had heat in his room. He'd tried to make his case that staying unknown was wiser than bringing it to their attention. The point was lost on her, whether because of the wine or just that she hadn't ever had to try to be invisible, he didn't know.

"Tell me about your parents," he said, handing her a full glass, white wine this time. Her eyes went dull and he could tell she was far away. She looked like it physically hurt to dig up the memories. He felt similarly.

"It hurts you know. I was being such a bitch that morning. I can't even remember what it was that I wanted and my mom had said no. I stormed off and went to study. She came to the door and invited me along. They were going to get milkshakes. She knew how I loved strawberry milkshakes, but I wasn't ready to let it go. I wanted her to know that she didn't have power over me, she couldn't just talk me out of being mad. I said I needed to study and couldn't go with them. Mom looked a little hurt but turned to walk away. 'Shut the door!' I yelled. She took the couple steps back and gave me a sad smile as she closed the door. And that was it-the last image I have of her in my mind."

Elizabeth downed the glass of wine and crawled off her bed and shuffled to the box. She perused its contents carefully. She pulled out a bottle of vodka and unscrewed the top. "I should've gone with them. Maybe I'd have died too. Maybe my brother wouldn't hate me for not being there with him." She raised the bottle to her lips and poured the clear liquid down her throat. "I wonder if they would care if I died now. Probably only if they had to tear themselves away from whatever they were doing to bury me." A sharp laugh escaped her, "I'd probably sit in a cooler somewhere for months until they got a notice that they were going to be charged extra for storage." Henry stared at her, unsure what to say. His mind wasn't clear enough to form a reasonable argument as to why she was wrong. She studied him, before moving to the door. "I gotta pee," she said, disappearing into the hallway.

Returning a moment later, she sat down next to Henry on the floor. "So what did your parents do to make you hate them?"

Henry sighed. "I don't hate them. I just said I was never going to back. I didn't grow up in a loving home. I don't think they know how to love. And I don't know that I know how to love. My mom. I don't know where to begin. She's a drunk and she's mean when she's drunk and she's always drunk. Everyone tries to steer clear of her as much as possible. And my dad-he's there but he's not there. Maybe he's just been beat down enough that he just exists. I'm not sure, but I had to get out."

Elizabeth leaned over and grabbed the vodka bottle and handed it to him. Henry took three big gulps and set it on the floor between them. Resting back against the side of the bed, Elizabeth sighed, "Do you ever just want to feel something different than what you're feeling?" Henry looked at her, obviously confused. "It's just, I'm so tired of being angry and sad and lonely. I want to feel something different."

"I haven't had much in the way of happiness. I've seen it, but never really been a part of it. Mom always said that I got what I deserved. The handful of times I was happy, I got a lot of beatings and belittling, so that's what I'm used to. I don't associate happiness with anything good." Henry reached between them and picked up the bottle and took another drink. Elizabeth took the bottle and tipped it all the way back, emptying it.

"I think your mother is full of shit," Elizabeth said. She attempted to lean in for emphasis, but the vodka was hitting her hard enough that she fell forward into Henry's shoulder. "What the hell? The floor moved." Henry laughed.

He met Elizabeth's gaze. She had the most beautiful eyes. He tried to figure out exactly what it was about them. They seemed to change colors with her mood, but that wasn't exactly it. Her eyes were like a window to her soul, a soul which was aged beyond her years, but possessed a strength so much greater than any he had known, but they conveyed so much more. It was too much and he blinked, looking away quickly. "Come on. Let's go!" he said suddenly jumping to his feet, fighting the feeling of the room moving. He held on to her desk chair until the feeling subsided and pulled her to her feet. "Shoes and coat now," he said, moving toward his pile of clothing.

They stumbled around getting their shoes and coats on. He took her hand and pulled her outside. Elizabeth's head was swimming and the world wouldn't stop moving. Once outside, Henry steadied her and helped her get her gloves on and he zipped her coat before zipping his own and slipping his hands in his gloves. She watched him intently. Henry was careful around her. He seemed to want to care for her. It warmed her heart in a way that she hadn't felt in such a long time.

She felt him squeeze her hand. "Come on!" Henry fell back into the snow and started moving his arms and legs in a wide arc. "Check out my snow angel." She laughed and fell, making a snow angel of her own. It was Elizabeth that threw the first snowball and hit Henry in the middle of the back. They went back and forth. Henry had to admit that Elizabeth had one hell of an arm. She almost never missed.

He caught her eye and saw a light there that he had never seen before. She was truly a beautiful woman. A wave of warmth washed over him.

Elizabeth launched a snowball, hitting Henry on the shoulder. She watched his reaction. He'd laughed and then looked up at her. Their eyes held each other's gaze for a few seconds. What she saw in Henry's eyes lit a fire in her core. She exhaled heavily.

Elizabeth took off running. She wasn't sure if she was running away or running with the expectation that he would follow her. She made it halfway across the Quad before the alcohol got the better of her and she stumbled forward falling down. Elizabeth rolled over just in time to have Henry fall, half on top of her. His leg landed between her legs and without thinking, her hips jutted into his thigh, seeking friction. She pushed at his chest and he immediately rolled off of her. To his surprise, she followed him and pinned him to the ground, grinding her center into his leg. She squirmed up his body until she was towering over him. She descended, letting their lips meet. After the initial chaste kiss, when he didn't resist, she plunged her tongue in his mouth. When she finally pulled away, she leaned into his ear, and whispered, "I want you to fuck me."


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Thank you all so much for hanging in there with me. I know this is a very different version of Henry and Elizabeth than we usually see, so I appreciate everyone approaching this story with an open mind.

Chapter 4

Before Henry could react, she rolled off of him and stood, the drunken fog cleared somewhat by the cold. He pushed himself up off the ground. "I don't think we should be doing that when we're drunk."

His words made sense-too much sense considering the amount of alcohol they'd consumed. "I'd say it's the perfect time to do that." She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the stairs. Once inside the suite, she shed her winter clothing and let it fall in the hallway. Elizabeth turned and pulled the zipper of Henry's coat down and tugged his gloves off before pushing the coat off his shoulders. "I'm not joking. I need to feel good, Henry." She looked him directly in the eye. 'Please. Make me feel good."

Henry kicked his shoes off and took hold of her upper arms. "This is still not a good idea." He towered over her. Leaning down, he kissed her. It was fiery and demanding and Elizabeth gave into it. Henry was strong and she wanted him to take over. She was tired of hiding away how she felt. More than that, she was tired of having to control her emotions, always thinking of the outcomes, always feeling alone. Elizabeth wanted to be wanted.

Pulling away, she looked into his eyes. She saw pain. Pain like she carried. He knew what it felt like to be unwanted. They could help each other. It was mutually beneficial she decided. She turned the doorknob and they stepped into her room. Fishing out a bottle of whiskey from the box, she offered it to him. He took it and after taking a couple shots worth, he handed it back and she did the same. She set the bottle on her desk and stepped back into his embrace, gathering the courage she needed to do what she wanted to do.

Elizabeth tried to take a step back and lost her balance. Henry roughly caught her by the arm. She grounded herself and shot him a grin before stripping. She climbed into the middle of the bed and flopped down. "McCord. It's time to get this show on the road."

Henry swallowed thickly and he wished he wasn't so drunk. He probably wouldn't remember half of this and he desperately wanted to remember this. He smirked at himself. Henry knew that if he was sober, he would think this was the worst idea ever. He barely knew Elizabeth and using sex to cover up for some sort of emotional breakdown wasn't going to be helpful if they might start something more serious. "Sober Henry can fuck off," he muttered.

"What?" Elizabeth asked, not understanding.

"Nothing," he said, climbing on top of her. He kissed her fiercely and his hand groped her breast. Her arousal was climbing and she wanted that release so badly. She pulled his hand off of her and pushed it down her body.

"Touch me," she begged. Henry grunted and swiped his fingers through her folds. Her moans filled his head and his penis was strained against his jeans to the point of pain. He pulled back and Elizabeth groaned her frustration. "What the hell?'

"Sorry, I can't. I gotta-" Henry left that sentence unfinished as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed it on the bed before shoving his jeans down and freeing himself. His head was swimming, but he desperately tried to focus on Elizabeth. "You are so fucking beautiful," he said, his voice raspy with desire. She lay below him, her bare chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, her legs spread open wide ready to accept him.

She raised up on her elbows and studied him. Elizabeth could tell he was trying to clear his head. If he thought about it too much, he might decide this wasn't a good idea. She wrapped her hand around his hardened penis and pumped him. "Do you have?" Henry nodded before she could finish vocalizing the thought. Fumbling for his wallet, he pulled out a condom. She sat all the way up and took it from him. Ripping the packet open with her teeth, she placed it over his tip and unrolled it down his length. "Now, fuck me like you mean it." Elizabeth grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him down with her.

Elizabeth's words, along with the alcohol, made him dizzy. Henry felt sure he wouldn't last long. If she wanted that, who was he to deny her? When he pushed into her, she let out a guttural moan that made him shudder. He pulled back and slammed into her, over and over, his heart pounding in this ears, completely unaware of anything besides pushing himself over the edge. As he came, he cried out loudly and collapsed on Elizabeth. Within seconds, he'd pulled out, kissed her cheek and passed out.

A frustrated huff escaped Elizabeth's mouth. She'd been so close to the release she so desperately wanted. She tried to salvage it, vigorously rubbing her clit, but the moment had passed. "Fuck," she muttered, as she squirmed out from under Henry. She tried not to be pissed, but tears formed in her eyes anyway. She felt used. The whole point had been for her to get off, and now Henry had and she still held all of the tension and frustration and anger. "Damn him," she said as she crawled out of bed and went to take a shower.

The long, hot shower had settled her to the point where she was able to tuck her emotions back into the recesses of her mind. She decided there was no point in being angry about what had happened. Drunk sex with someone wasn't really going to get her what she wanted. It was a bad idea from the start.

She threw a blanket over Henry and decided to go for a walk since she had no idea how long he'd be out. Hopefully he'd be up when she returned and they could skip that awkward "hey, we just fucked and you passed out on me" moment.

Henry came to a couple hours later. His head was pounding and thankfully there was a trash can next to the bed that caught the contents of his stomach. He tried to get up and was caught in the jeans around his knees and the blanket that Elizabeth must have tossed over him. He removed the spent condom and glanced at the clock. "Wow," he mumbled, clutching his head. She was gone and that was unsettling. Henry tried to think back to everything that had happened. It was fuzzy, but he remembered the drinking, her on him in the snow, her pulling him down on top of her, "fuck me like you mean it." God, that was a heady scene and he could get hard thinking about it, but his pounding head squelched those thoughts quickly. He pulled his pants back up and stepped into the bathroom to clean the trash can and rinse his mouth out.

Henry was almost ready to leave, growing very uncomfortable being in Elizabeth's room without her there when she breezed in a bright smile on her face. "I brought dinner. I hope you didn't have other plans."

"I have a bowl of cereal in my room calling my name, but I guess I can put that off until tomorrow." She chuckled. "Where did you find food on Christmas night?" he asked.

"It was in the car. I brought it from home. It's so cold outside, I figured it would be fine left there. We can heat it up in the microwave in the lounge downstairs," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Actually better since I threw up. You?" he asked, stepping closer. He wanted to reach out for her hand but was wondering how Elizabeth would feel about that.

"I'm okay," she said. "I walked it off." She caught the concerned look Henry gave her. "Really, I'm fine."

"We need to talk, and we needed to before today. That is just one more thing," he said. "Let's eat first." They headed downstairs and eventually sat in the lounge eating fried chicken off of paper towels in near silence. "Thank you for this. It's a nice change from Cheerios."

She smiled at him. "You're welcome. No one was going to be at the house to eat it anyway. Aunt Joan would've just tossed it when she returned home next week."

"Is that why you came back?" he asked.

Elizabeth sighed. "My brother, Will, is seldom around. He has a lot of friends-friends who travel and take him along. I knew he wasn't going to be home more than a few days after I finished finals. My Aunt Joan made plans, but didn't tell me. I woke up yesterday and she was gone. The cleaning lady told me she went to Spain with some friends. Really? On Christmas Eve? She couldn't even spend the holiday with me? She couldn't take the two minutes to let me know that she wasn't going to be home most of the break? I can't stay there alone. I just can't do it. I tried. I hung out and read during the day and I went to bed and I couldn't go to sleep. I just kept thinking about those hours that I wandered the house the day of the wreck trying to figure out why they weren't home yet. All of those hours, they were dead, Will was in the hospital and I paced that house."

Henry took her hand and held it. "I'm sorry." He laughed and she shot him a hard look. "No, your situation isn't funny. I was just thinking that you don't want to stay in your house, and I was never wanted in mine. Just sort of a funny, but not funny thing."

"Why do you think you weren't wanted?" Elizabeth asked, leaning in to focus on Henry.

"Because I'm pretty sure I was quite literally not wanted, but Mom always told me it was because I was so stupid. I was maybe 3 or 4 when my mom took me to school the first time and tried to get them to take me. Of course I was too young and they sent her back home with me." Elizabeth watched a pained look blanket his expression. "She told me that if I had been smarter, they would've taken me and that she couldn't handle being around someone so stupid, so she threw me out. She made me go outside every morning and she wouldn't let me in. I had to wait until my dad got home from work and he would let me come in with him. It wasn't so bad at first. I just played in the yard and made up silly games and waved to the neighbors and stuff. I mean I got hungry, but it wasn't too bad. Then winter came and it was so cold. Dad argued with Mom that I'd freeze and she said it didn't matter. Dad got me some boxes to hide in out of the wind, but it was still very cold. I probably would have frozen to death that winter, but Tommy and Anna saved me."

Henry snapped out of his own world at his mention of Tommy. He found Elizabeth captivated by his story. "How did Tommy and Anna save you?" she asked.

Henry shook his head. "I'm not sure what possessed me to bring them up. I don't talk about that. I'm sorry. This is depressing. Tell me a good story from your childhood. What was Christmas like at your house?"

Elizabeth smiled, "Christmas was always so special. We didn't do big and fancy things, it was just the little things we did together. Every year Mom made cookies and we all helped decorate them and then we made little gift bags of cookies to take around to the neighbors. We would sit around the table one Saturday before Christmas and we'd laugh and tease each other about our decorating skills and we'd eat one cookie for every one that we actually decorated. And our tree, it was just a plain old fake tree in a box, but we would hang lights and those silvery icicle streamer things all over it and Mom would only let us use ornaments that we were gifted or made and she had a story for every one. We'd pull one out of the box and hand it to her and she'd tell the story before we hung it on the tree." She looked sadly at Henry. "We haven't put a tree up since, but last week, I climbed up in the attic and pulled the box of ornaments down and looked through them, but I could only remember about half of the stories. So many of those beloved memories of hers are gone. I feel like I've let her down again." Elizabeth stared at her lap, despair blanketing her. It was strange. Those desolate feelings hurt so much, yet in the brief moments she wasn't consumed by them, she felt exposed and vulnerable. There was a constant struggle between the frightening possibility of finding happiness and the suffocating feeling of sadness.

Henry moved his chair to sit next to her. "I don't think you've let her down at all. You took what was important to her and made it your own. You don't need to have the story of every ornament, because those are her memories. Your memories are the ones you made with your family, and you can tell those stories to your kids one day."

She looked up at him with watery eyes. "Thanks, Henry. I guess that makes sense. It's just one more way that I feel like I've failed them." She placed her hand on his cheek. "And just so you know, your mom was really wrong about you. You are a very smart man. I don't know much about where you grew up or what you aspired to do that they thought was so wrong, but you should always aspire to more. I think you will do great things, Henry McCord."

He smiled at her, "You think so?"

"Actually, I know so." Her kind words sent a wave of warmth over him, and he wanted to hold her close.

"What are we exactly?" he asked suddenly.

"What do you want us to be?" she asked.

"More than a one night stand," Henry said. Elizabeth glared at him. "What? Is the look because you don't want us to be anything or because I said this afternoon was a one night stand?"

"You say it like I picked up some guy off the street." Elizabeth's chest tightened and tears pricked her eyes, but she wouldn't allow Henry the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"I'd like to think I'm a level above that, but not by much. We know almost nothing about each other."

"We've known each other for months, Henry."

"We sit together and you watch me do algebraic equations and we might eat lunch and discuss the weather. I'm not sure that qualifies as knowing someone." Henry could tell his voice was growing louder, and the fact that he couldn't even control this one thing was making him mad.

"I know you better than I know anyone else here." Her voice came out as little more than a whisper.

"And I'm telling you that if you are using me as your standard and you go around doing what you did today very often, it won't be long and you'll have all kinds of guys you _know _lined up," Henry fumed.

Elizabeth felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She had been so terribly wrong about him. She thought they were the same. She swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat. She clenched her fists to keep her hands from trembling. She took a deep breath, swallowing the pain before she spoke. "I guess you are right. I thought that maybe we needed the same thing, but I was wrong. I obviously misjudged you. You aren't the man I thought you were. Goodbye, Henry."

Elizabeth turned and left the lounge and ran up the steps to her room. She slammed the door and crossed the room, flinging herself on her bed. She was inundated by the smell of him on her sheets and what could have been comforting was now a slap in the face. She rolled off the bed and ripped the sheets off, tossing them into the corner. She curled back up in the center of the bed and released the sobs she'd been holding in. After an hour, she finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

Henry had been left standing in the middle of the girls' dorm lounge wondering how the hell things went south so quickly. He was angry that he let himself lose his temper and yell. And it made him even angrier that the louder he got the quieter she became. It was as if he was stealing her voice, although her words pierced him. She said that they needed the same thing. What could the two of them, being so completely different, possibly need? What could he give her that she didn't already have? It made no sense to him. He squeezed his temples with his thumb and index finger and let out a deep sigh. Maybe he'd try to talk to her tomorrow.

He gathered up their trash and put it back in the small plastic bag that she had it in and headed out of the lounge, shutting of the lights as he went. He trudged across the Quad and into his room. Henry sat in the cold, darkness of his room and realized that the cold wasn't just about the temperature. It was about the warmth he felt when he was with Elizabeth, even if they were just discussing algebra and the weather. Now that was gone and he'd hadn't realized he'd had it until it was missing. Henry left his coat on and bundled up in his blanket and stared at the ceiling until sleep finally overtook him.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: If you are still hanging in there with me, I appreciate it. Hopefully you will continue to read. As always, I love to hear what you think.

Chapter 5

Henry went into work a couple hours early because he could no longer stand to be in his room. He took a seat in the break room and stared at the table. "Hey Henry! How was your Christmas?" The day cook, Don, clapped him on the back as he passed through.

"It was alright," Henry mumbled.

"You look rough. You have trouble sleeping?" Don asked, having actually stopped now as he saw Henry's disheveled state.

"Something like that," Henry mumbled again.

"If you need to talk, come on back and sit with me by the grill." Don walked back into the kitchen leaving Henry to his thoughts. After a few minutes, Henry drug himself off the chair, grabbed a cup of coffee and went to sit near the middle aged cook. "Money trouble or girl trouble?" Henry looked up at the older man. "You're in college. How many other troubles could you have? I mean classes are over so it isn't that, right?" Henry sighed.

"So, I hooked up with this girl yesterday." Don raised an eyebrow, and Henry huffed. "Anyway I would like it to be more than just an a one time thing and she's mad at me."

"Wait, she's upset that you just want to hook up whenever and you don't understand why?" Henry groaned.

"That's not it at all. We've been hanging out and I think I like her and then we got drunk yesterday and things happened and when I brought up seeing each other, saying I wanted us to be more than a one night stand, she was furious."

"Hold on!" Sam said, interjecting herself into the conversation as she walked by and overheard. "Let me make sure I got this straight."

"Wait! When did my life become everyone's fucking business?" Henry crossed his arms, glaring at the scrawny waitress that was only a few years older than himself.

Don threw an elbow into his arm knocking him sideways. "Listen to Sam. If she can tame Rufus over there into some sort of decent human being, she's got skills, ya get what I'm saying?" Everyone laughed. It was common knowledge that Rufus, whose real name was Raphael, had been a player before he met Sam.

"I don't know about skills, but I just knew I wasn't putting up with all that bullshit his other women put up with. If he wanted me, he was going to have to straighten up," Sam said, shrugging.

Rufus stepped to her side and kissed her cheek. "And I did, and it was worth it." He grinned. "So, Henry's issue is that he likes this girl, banged her, and when he referred to it as a one night stand, she got all pissed off, am I right?"

Henry nodded as that was kind of the gist of it. "How long have you known her? You said you'd been hanging out," Sam asked.

"For about three months. Like we study at the same table and she was my algebra tutor and a few times we've eaten together in the cafeteria, but we only chat about basic things like classes and the weather. I learned more about her yesterday than I ever knew before."

"Raf, baby, I'm going to let you take this one," Sam said. "I need to go check on my customers. Explain to the man what a one night stand is and how what he had was nowhere near that and how saying that was obviously going to piss her off." Sam's voice carried through the kitchen as she grabbed a couple plates and headed into the dining room.

"Come on. I've got work to do." Rufus motioned for Henry to join him at his station. Henry went ahead and grabbed an apron and washed his hands before joining the man at the salad table. "Chicks have a totally different way of thinking, so don't try to apply your man logic to it because it just plain doesn't work. You seem to not be very wise to how this works. How many girls have you been with?"

"I'm not sure what this has to do with anything," Henry said, becoming self conscious and wishing he'd never said anything at all.

"Seriously, it matters," Rufus said.

"Fine. Four."

"So, like boyfriend kind of thing or just a hookup deal?" Henry gave him a look, but answered the question anyway.

"I've had one girlfriend. We dated for about eight months. I broke up with her before I came here because I knew that I wouldn't be back. One was someone that we just sort of casually had sex for a while and the other two were single instances, but I knew them all. We'd grown up together. I'm not sure what this has to do with anything." Henry was getting annoyed, but distracted himself by making the salad order that came up.

"I need to know your level of experience to best help you. I'm not getting my rocks off knowing how many girls you've been with. Really? I have better things to do. But here's the thing. One night stand. I walk into a party or bar. I pick out some drunk chick who seems to run a little loose. We leave together and I bang the fuck out of her, dump her off somewhere, and pray to God that we never see each other again. I don't even need to know her name. Your chick. You've been hanging together for months. You don't need to know her life history, but you are obviously going to see her again, even planning on it. Do you see that this is in no way a one night stand and by insinuating that she just goes off with some guy she doesn't know, it would be insulting to her?"

"I only meant that I wanted to be more than the occasional hookup," Henry said. "I wasn't trying to say anything about her."

"Yeah, well too late. That ship pretty much sailed," Rufus smirked. Henry made another salad. "You know, if you want to come in early every shift and do my job, I'm totally fine with that."

"You can consider it my thanks." Henry was quiet for quite a while. "So, if I made some comment about if she continued to do that she'd have guys lined up-,"

"Oh dear Lord, you didn't say that, did you?" Sam cried as she breezed in with a tub of dirty dishes. Henry flinched. "Men can be fucking dumbasses. Jesus Henry, you might as well have called her a slut. I wouldn't forgive you." Henry gave her a look.

"How is it that you continue to pop in to throw in your two cents about something that doesn't concern you?" Henry spat.

"Whoa. Be careful what you say there. Sam's only stating the obvious, at least to everyone but you. If you like this girl, you'd better be figuring out how to do some big and sincere apologizing and be prepared to be her bitch for eternity, cause man, that's what you're looking at," Rufus said. Sam came up and gave him a shove and an expectant look. "Not that I'm knocking it. It's a good life. I like it." That caused everyone to chuckle.

Henry sent Don and Rufus on their way at five and worked his shift, all the while thinking about Elizabeth. He thought back to how she reacted and he could see that she took his words exactly as Sam and Rufus had said. He hadn't meant them that way, and perhaps if they knew each other better, it would have been easier to talk it out, or maybe they wouldn't have had the conversation at all. But now he definitely had to fix the problem. Even if she hated him and didn't want anything to do with him, Elizabeth needed to know that wasn't what he thought of her. It was completely the opposite.

Elizabeth rolled over and squinted her eyes against the sun shining through her window. Her eyes were puffy and they stung from all of the crying the night before. As soon as the drowsiness faded away, it was replaced by a deep loneliness that settled in her stomach like a boulder.

Ever since the first day she tutored Henry, she'd been happier. It was nice to have someone to sit with in the library or occasionally eat with if her suitemates weren't around. Elizabeth felt like she had a lot of acquaintances but no friends, no one she could trust, no one she could really talk to. She had hoped Henry would eventually become that person. They seemed to have a lot in common. He was smart, and he listened to what she had to say. She was hoping for a real relationship.

Then everything happened with her aunt and when she saw Henry, she just couldn't stop herself from going there."Good God," she muttered. Thinking that getting drunk and having sex would fix her problem was really a dumb move. She knew from previous experience that it didn't work out.

Now, Henry was gone and even though they had never really been anything more than two people that shared the same space, his absence grieved Elizabeth. Hope seemed to have vanished and now she was just stuck wallowing in despair. She was still sitting on her bed when she eyed the box of alcohol sitting on her floor. It hadn't served her very well with Henry, but she was alone now. She crawled out of the bed and chose a bottle of bourbon to start with. Taking a big swig, she winced. It burned going down, but after a few minutes, she could feel the emptiness just a little less. It was enough incentive to keep going in hopes that the pain would go away. One bottle became two, and two became three. She just wanted to feel nothing. No loneliness, no emptiness, no pain. Her body screamed no, but she poured more in anyway. She continued until her body collapsed, refusing to ingest any more.

Usually he took the long way back to campus after work trying to get in his required miles for ROTC, but tonight he took the shortest route possible. Henry hoped Elizabeth would be open to at least letting him apologize if nothing else. He was happy to see that her light was on as he entered the Quad. Racing up to his room, he dumped his things and headed across to see her. Running up the steps, he noticed that her blinds were partially up, which was unusual for her at night. He entered the suite and knocked on her door. There was no answer. He knocked a second time and then went to look in the window. Panic rose in him as he saw her laying face down in the middle of her floor.

Henry dashed back in and checked the room door. He muttered his thanks that it was unlocked as he knelt down beside her. Rolling her over, her skin had a grayish tint. He checked her pulse and he felt one, but he didn't think it was as strong as it should be. He quickly located the phone next to her bed and dialed 911. Henry received instructions to keep her on her side and just sit with her until the ambulance arrived, which he did. He felt like he couldn't breathe and his hands trembled as he held her limp body, waiting for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally he could see the reflections of the flashing lights from her window as the ambulance pulled into the parking lot, which in the moment became both a welcome and terrifying sight. He let her go to step outside and flag the paramedics down. Once inside, one of the guys took her vitals while the other interviewed Henry, not that he had much information to offer. Their questions were pointed and Henry wasn't sure what the best answer was. For the first time, Henry looked around the room and saw what the paramedics had seen instantly, and it made him sick to think about it. Empty liquor bottles lay strewn all over the room. There were at least twice as many as what the two of them had emptied the day before. Was she alone? And if so, was she trying to kill herself? Henry had answered no to both questions, but seeing the aftermath made him wonder if he had lied.

The paramedic tugged on his arm, bringing him back to the present. "Do you want to come with us?" Henry nodded and followed, turning off the lights and closing her door behind them. He spent the next few hours in the waiting room of the ER wondering what was taking place behind those large wooden doors.

Henry sat with his memories of the last time he saw an ambulance take someone away, and the despair was overwhelming. "Not her too," he prayed. Having slept poorly the night before and now it being the wee hours of the following morning, an exhausted Henry dozed off, slivers of nightmares ripping through his mind, his head propped against the wall.

"Mr. McCord?" The nurse shook his shoulder. "Mr. McCord?" Henry jumped as her voice worked its way through the fog of his sleep.

"Yeah?" He tried to clear his mind. "How is she? Can I see her?" His words tumbled out in a flurry. "Tell me she's alright."

"Miss Adams will be fine. We're going to keep her for observation as her alcohol levels go down, but it looks like she'll be alright. If you want to follow me, I can take you to her." Henry followed the nurse down a series of long hallways before coming to an elevator. Henry looked confused. The nurse noticed and answered the unspoken question, "Miss Adams has been moved to a regular floor room. She didn't need to stay in the ER." Henry nodded. The door opened after the ding and he followed her out and down another series of hallways. Henry's mind wandered and he was curious how they kept everything straight. Surely new employees got lost. "Right here, Mr. McCord. Rachel is her nurse tonight and she should be in periodically through the night to check vitals and see how Miss Adams is doing." Henry thanked her and made his way to Elizabeth's bedside.

She was curled on her side, oxygen tubing in her nose, IV in the back of her hand, catheter bag attached to the side of the bed. It seemed to Henry that the course of action was to pump her full of fluids to help flush the alcohol out of her system. He wasn't sure about the oxygen, but even though she was still pale, her coloring looked a lot better. He pulled up a chair beside her bed. He slipped his hand under hers and rested his head on the mattress next to her knee where he promptly fell asleep. It was several hours later when Elizabeth violently lurched forward, expelling the contents of her stomach and then continued to heave long after her stomach was empty. Henry had been awake for a while and, having been warned by the nurse that it could happen, was ready with a tub to catch her vomit. She fell back against the bed, her eyes still closed. Henry handed her a damp cloth to wipe her mouth and he moved a glass of water closer in case she wanted it.

Elizabeth tried to open her eyes, but the harsh fluorescent light and her headache prevented it. Henry moved to switch off the light. "Now try," he said, once the room was illuminated only by the early morning sunlight filtering in around the drawn curtains.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open. "What happened?" Letting her eyes fall on Henry, she asked, "What are you doing here?" Her words were soft, unbelieving.

"I just thought it would be fun to spend the night in the ER," he quipped. "You have alcohol poisoning. You nearly killed yourself."

"Oh," she said softly.

"Was that the point?" he asked. "I told them no, but I'm not sure if I was lying or not."

"I suppose it doesn't matter now, does it?" she asked.

"It most certainly does matter. You are too important to end your life," he said, a desperation in his voice.

"Important to who?" she asked.

"Important to me." Henry said softly.

"Don't do that, Neither one of us are stupid enough to believe it."

"I found you because I went to your room to apologize and tell you what a loser I am and to beg your forgiveness and to see if maybe we could get to know each other better." He rubbed his hand over his face. "But we can talk about that later. Now you should go to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."

"Will I?" she murmured before closing her eyes.

Henry sat by her bedside and spent a long time pondering Elizabeth's situation. How would he feel if he had a good relationship with his parents and something happened to them? He hadn't really loved anyone like that and lost them. Then he stopped-Tommy. He was so bereft after Tommy's death. It probably wasn't exactly the same but maybe similar. He could identify with those feelings of loss and where she was left with a family that didn't seem care for her, he was too. Maybe they were more similar than he thought.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: i very much appreciate the kind reviews written about this story. More than that, I thank all of those people who are taking the time to read a story that doesnt fit the mold. i hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 6

Henry opened Elizabeth's door and the odor nearly knocked him over and took him back all at once. It smelled like Vivian McCord, and it made his stomach tighten involuntarily. He grabbed the large trash can from the hallway and drug it inside the room. Depositing the empty bottles in, he took the last dozen or so to the bathroom and emptied their contents into the toilet. He opened the windows and took the trash to the dumpster in the parking lot. By the time he made it back, the room smelled better. Fresh air helped a lot. He pulled her quilt back over her bed, and picked up a few things off the floor. Henry felt uncomfortable being in her space, but knew that she would need some clothes to wear home, so he took a shirt and jeans from the closet and and pair of panties, bra and socks from the drawer and put them in her backpack that was hanging on the back of the door. Luckily he tripped on her shoes walking out of the suite and tossed those in too. Looking around one last time, he was satisfied that it looked ok. He pulled the door shut. He went to his room and showered and got ready for work.

After his shift at the diner, he ran to the hospital to check on her. Walking into her room, he couldn't help but smile. She was looking like her regular self, sitting in the middle of the bed, cross legged watching TV. "Hey there! You look like you feel better."

"I do. Finally." Elizabeth spoke softly, but kept her eyes downcast. "You don't need to feel obligated to keep coming to see me. If this is out of guilt or something, really, don't worry about it. This whole situation is of my own making. I made some assumptions that were incorrect. I'm fine."

"Elizabeth, I'm not here out of guilt. I'm here because-I-I think you were right and I want," Henry paused unsure of where exactly he was going with this. "I want us to really get to know each other and see if that becomes something else."

"What was I right about?" Elizabeth murmured, still not looking up.

"That we needed the same thing. I didn't understand it at first. We are so very different and I often can't see anything beyond the surface stuff, I couldn't see that we would be the same in any way." He stopped, trying to figure out how to say what he was thinking, and she looked up at him, willing him to continue. "I think we both have a deep need to feel valued and to be loved and accepted for who we are."

She nodded and Henry continued while he still had the courage. "I am really sorry about the other night. What I was trying to say and what I actually said were two totally different things. I understand if you would just rather stay away from me, but I really do want you to know how sorry I am and that I don't think those things at all."

"It's alright. Don't worry about it." She looked at him awkwardly.

"When do you get to leave?" Henry asked.

"I think tomorrow morning. Hey, uh, do you know how to drive?"

"Just because I don't have a car doesn't mean I can't drive," he said. He heard it come off harsher than he intended. He took a deep breath. "Yeah, my dad taught me to drive."

Elizabeth was caught off guard. Henry's tone could change so quickly. She didn't know how to take it and mentioning it seemed like a bad idea. She spoke softly. "I was just thinking that maybe you could bring my car tomorrow if you don't have to work early. It's not a big deal. I can take a cab home if I need to."

"No, no, I'd be happy to pick you up." He studied her. She was so pretty but her eyes seemed to be tentative-worried. "Would it be alright if I stayed a little while. I brought a deck of cards, but I don't know many games besides 'Go Fish.'"

"I like that game." Elizabeth grinned, "McCord, you are going down." She slid the hospital tray in front of her and Henry perched on the end of the bed, and pulled the cards from his bag. They played well into the night, joking around and having a good time. Looking at the clock, Henry saw that he needed to go since he still needed to walk a couple miles back to campus. He packed up and made sure that Elizabeth knew where her things were. He wanted to say goodbye, but wasn't sure how he should do it. He really wanted to kiss her, but that didn't feel appropriate. He leaned in and gave her a quick hug.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said, his hand coming up from his side in a partial wave.

Henry woke the next morning, still huddled in his coat, his blanket wrapped tight around him. He took a long, hot shower and was thankful that he had that option to get warmed up. Dressing quickly, he made his way to Elizabeth's room and got her keys and purse from the hook on the back of her door. He smiled as he crossed the Quad, happy that he was going to see her.

Sitting behind the wheel of a car that was probably worth more than his house in PIttsburgh, he looked things over. It was just a car, albeit an expensive one. Henry started it and let it warm up before backing out of the parking space and heading toward the hospital. As Henry headed into the hospital, he found himself getting excited at the anticipation of seeing Elizabeth. It was a foreign feeling, and while it was not exactly unwelcome, it was certainly unsettling.

Elizabeth was sitting on the side of the bed, flipping through a magazine. Hearing him, she looked up, her smile covering her face and Henry felt that rush of warmth, making him stop in his tracks grinning goofily. "Hey there," he said. "When do you get to break out?"

"I'm just waiting on some final paperwork. It should be soon." She stood and moved around the end of the bed to replace the magazine and remained there, staring out the window. "I just wanted to thank you for finding me the other night. It doesn't sound like it would've been good it you hadn't come when you did."

"Why did you do it?' he asked, not yet moving from his spot just inside the doorway.

Henry watched her shoulders fall and heard the sigh. He slipped his coat off and tossed it on the bed. He moved closer, standing a few feet away. She spoke, "Have you ever felt so alone that it hurts?" She glanced over her shoulder at him, but turned back to the window, unable to look at him while speaking. "People talk about feeling lonely, but it's not just being alone and wanting someone to keep you company, or being bored. It's so much deeper, like the despair is so overwhelming that I can't see a way past the nothingness. And it hurts, like a weight on my chest and every breath I take hurts a little more until I cannot breathe." She turned to face Henry, who was now standing close. "I wasn't trying to kill myself. I just needed the pain to go away. I needed to get away from it for a little while, just until I was strong enough to carry it again. Does that make sense?"

Henry stood in awe of the woman before him. From the outside, she looked like she had everything. She was smart, beautiful, had money, a nice car, nice clothes, hung around with people that all looked like her. Elizabeth looked like a person that Henry thought would have a perfect life. He had been jealous of similar people in high school. He categorized them based on a set of assumptions that he now saw were false. Elizabeth was as broken as he was, only they mended differently. She exuded kindness and continued to put herself out there, hoping to reclaim the love she once felt. Henry was different.

"I understand what you are saying, but I think you feel it so deeply because you've been loved. You know what has been lost. I've never had that, even with Tommy's family. I was shown kindness, but I don't think it was love. Having never known it, I don't know what I'm missing. It's just my life. When I was little, I didn't understand and I wanted love, but eventually, I learned that I could live without it, and so I have. There are very few situations in which I feel like I got the better deal in life, but this might be it. I am sorry."

Henry held out his hand and she took it and allowed him to pull her to the nearby chair where he took her into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled into him, resting her cheek against his temple. Normally this kind of interaction would make Henry cringe and he'd try to get away as soon as possible, but even though cuddling wasn't his thing, he wanted to comfort Elizabeth. He liked the warm feeling he always had when he was with her and there was a new unexplained need he had to protect her, not because she needed protecting, but because she deserved for someone to care for her in that way.

The nurse came in with the discharge papers. "Okay, it looks like you are ready to go." Elizabeth pulled herself up and went to stand near the nurse while she went through the paperwork. "Your appointment with Dr. Wilson has been set for tomorrow at 1 pm and next Tuesday at 2pm. Do you have any questions?"

"Is there a bill in here?" Elizabeth asked, leafing through the pile of papers.

"I don't think so. It was going to be mailed to your home address," the nurse said off-handedly.

"I'd like that please. I"ll pay now. Thanks." The nurse nodded slowly and disappeared. Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed and pushed the papers into her backpack. "Oh, thanks for bringing me different clothes. That was a nice surprise. I hadn't thought that far ahead. I don't even know what happened to my other stuff. That might have been awkward-leaving in a hospital gown."

"And cold," Henry said, "and you're welcome. I hope you don't think it's creepy that I did that. I felt kind of weird doing it, but I thought you'd like your own clothes to wear." Elizabeth laughed.

"It's fine. Unless you were trying my underwear on or something. That would be creepy," she joked.

Henry turned beet red. "No, definitely not." Just then, the nurse returned and handed Elizabeth a piece of paper. She opened her purse and pulled out a checkbook and wrote out a check. She handed it to the woman, who looked a little skeptical, but took the check.

"That's takes care of everything then. Can I have someone walk you out?" the nurse asked.

"Goodness no. I'm fine. Thanks though," Elizabeth said turning her attention to Henry. "I'm ready. We can go now." She slung her backpack over her shoulder and let Henry lead her out the door.

As they made their way toward the elevator, he asked, "You paid because you didn't want your aunt to know?" His head was somewhat down, but tilted so he could see her response.

Elizabeth shrugged. "She would just feel obligated to call and give me a lecture. Then she'd probably sign me up to see a shrink to fix me." She sighed before waving around two small pieces of paper. "Good news. I've got that covered."

"That's what your appointments are?" Henry asked. She nodded.

"They weren't going to discharge me until I agreed to go see this guy. It appears that they think I tried to kill myself, so I need to convince this guy in two appointments that I wasn't." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "If I was going to to kill myself, I would've done it long before now." Henry didn't respond, as there wasn't much he could say.

They stopped for breakfast on the way back and Henry walked Elizabeth to her room after. Now, they stood inside her room in an uncomfortable silence. "Thanks for picking things up. I'm sure it was quite the mess." Elizabeth looked around. "What happened to the rest? I didn't drink everything, did I?" Elizabeth looked slightly confused.

"I dumped whatever was left and tossed all of the bottles," Henry said.

"That's probably for the best," she murmured. "So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"I have to work tonight, so I thought I might read or take a short nap before I go in," Henry said. "But, if you aren't already tired of me, I could rent a movie and we could watch it when I get off work."

Elizabeth smiled, "Yeah, I'd like that. My lounge or yours?"

"Mine has no heat, so let's go with yours," he said. "It's a date?"

"It's definitely a date."

Henry felt like his shift would never end. He rushed through his closing checklist and left as soon as he was allowed. He hit the video store just down the street and picked up a movie and a bag of microwave popcorn, then he sprinted back to campus. Henry slowed down when he got to the parking lot and tried to regulate his breathing. He quickly stopped at his room to clean up and change so he didn't smell like burgers and then he made his way to Elizabeth's room.

All evening, Elizabeth had been puttering around her room trying to pass the time. She was nervous and excited. It had been quite a while since she'd been on a date, even if it was just downstairs to watch a movie. Time spent with Henry felt special, especially with everything that had transpired over the past few days.

When he knocked at the door, she jumped, but raced to the door. "Hi," she said, suddenly feeling a little shy or maybe even insecure.

"Hi. I brought us popcorn to eat while watching the movie. Her face lit up and Henry smiled because of it.

"I love popcorn," she said.

"Let's go," Henry took her by the hand and led her down the steps into the lounge area. Elizabeth put the popcorn into the microwave while Henry set up the VCR and got the movie ready to play. Once they were both done, they settled on the couch together, with the bag of popcorn between them and they watched the movie, mostly. Henry spent a fair amount of time watching Elizabeth, and she stole glances when he wasn't looking.

As the final credits rolled, Henry stood and dropped the popcorn bag into the trash and removed the movie from the player. Elizabeth watched him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he said, sliding the movie back into its case.

"I'd like to know about Tommy. Would you share that part of your life with me?" Henry sighed. She could've asked anything about his parents, his school, his sex life even. He would've been more comfortable talking about anything else. He was about to tell her that he wasn't ready, but he realized that he would never be ready and if he wanted a real relationship with someone, he was going to have to share the best and worst parts of himself, and that was certainly both.

When she asked, Elizabeth fully expected him to sidestep the topic as he'd done before. But as he shifted uneasily in front of her, she saw that he was really considering it. She sensed that it was a very difficult thing for him to discuss, so she was surprised when he moved to sit next to her. Henry gathered her in his arms and pulled her in close. She rested her head on his shoulder and let her hand fall on his chest. Elizabeth heard the tightness in his breathing and felt the rapid thump of his heart beneath her hand.

"Tommy and his mom, Anna, are the only people I've ever come close to loving. I don't know if it was a mutual thing or not. Tommy and I were kids and didn't talk about those kinds of things and as an adult, I can see that Anna probably cared about me, but love was probably a stretch." Elizabeth moved her hand down to catch his and threaded their fingers together.

"It was the winter when I was 3 or 4 and I was hiding in a cardboard box during the day. I don't know how long it had been cold, maybe a week. My mom would kick me out of the house as soon as she woke up and I couldn't come back in until my dad let me back in when he got off work. So I was stuck outside maybe 8 or 9 hours a day.

"Tommy's family lived next door and I had seen them, but our family didn't talk to anyone else as far as I knew. When I was outside in the fall, I would wave at Tommy and his mom from over the fence, so she knew who I was and I'm guessing she figured out pretty quickly that I wasn't allowed to go in my own house. One morning, I was hiding in my box out of the wind, hugging my knees because I was so cold and I heard someone come up the steps. There was a knock on the door. After a couple of times, my mother came to the door with a few curse words for the person on the other side.

Tommy's mom introduced herself as Anna Williams and asked if she could take me to her house to play with her son, Tommy. She said Tommy was driving her crazy. My mom said she didn't give a shit what anyone did with me, that she could have me if she wished. Anna laughed and assured my mother that she only needed one preschool boy at a time. My mom slammed the door in her face and Anna came over to my box, took my hand and led me across the street.

After that day, Anna waited until Mom shoved me out the door and then she'd walk over and get me. We'd eat breakfast together and Tommy and I played. They weren't well off, but they had better things than at my house. Looking back now, their priorities were different. I think most of my dad's paycheck went to liquor for my mom. We didn't get new clothes or eat good food. My dad had to scrounge for everything we had. But Tommy had toys and books, his mom made cookies and we helped her with chores and sometimes she took us to the library. Every once in a while, she'd put me in the bathtub with Tommy and we'd play sharks or penguins or blow bubbles around. And when I got out, my clothes would have been washed and dried. It's embarrassing to think about it now, but I was little. I knew nothing about good hygiene or my lack thereof.

She came and got me every day that Dad wasn't home and Mr. Williams wasn't home. He worked in an office and sometimes had days off that my dad didn't. On those days I had to stay in the box because Mr. Williams said I was a freeloader and he didn't want me around. But, on the box days, Anna brought me blankets and a sandwich and cookie in a paper bag and a couple toys to play with. And that's how I spent my time before going to school."

"That was very kind of Tommy's mom," Elizabeth murmured. She tilted her head up to look at Henry. "I think she grew to love you." Henry suddenly pushed Elizabeth away.

"No!" He shook his head violently. "Not after what I did!" He leapt from the couch and flew outside, letting the door slam hard behind him. Elizabeth gave him a minute before she followed.

"What happened Henry?" she asked.

"I-I killed them both." Henry said, tears running down his cheeks. "Listen. I can't. I've got to-I'm sorry." Henry turned away and ran across the Quad and up to his room

Elizabeth stood in the same spot for a long time. Getting cold, she finally came out of her trance. She most definitely heard Henry say that he killed Tommy and his mother. She didn't understand that. There had to be more to the story. A part her wanted to go to him and comfort him, but the bigger part knew not to be around him when he was so on edge, so she gathered up the things and shut off the lounge lights before heading upstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Sorry to leave everyone hanging like that. I'll try to get the next chapter posted rather quickly for you guys. I'm still changing things right up until I post each chapter, so sometimes it takes a bit longer. Thanks for hanging with me on this adventure.

Chapter 7

The following morning, Elizabeth found herself sitting on the steps of the Jefferson-Madison Regional Library, Central branch waiting for it to open. It was the biggest of all of the libraries in the local Charlottesville system and she hoped that their librarians could be of assistance to her. Normally, she would go to the library on campus, but they were closed to the public for the duration of break and this was time sensitive.

When the doors opened, Elizabeth made her way to the reference desk and she explained her situation. "I need any newspaper articles from Pittsburgh referencing the death of a boy named Tommy, or maybe Thomas, Williams and his mother Anna. I'm thinking it would have happened between the years of 1974 and 1982. What do you think the best way to find that information would be?"

Elizabeth was always amazed at the resourcefulness of librarians. Within 30 minutes, one Mrs. MacDugan had contacted the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh and spoke with someone who actually remembered the particular incident in question and was able, within just a few minutes, to narrow down the time frame. The person in Pittsburgh made copies of the newspaper microfilm regarding the incident and was having them mailed to Charlottesville. Elizabeth was even able to pay the difference to have them overnighted to the library, so she could have them the following day. Based on Henry's reaction, he wasn't going to willingly be able to tell her himself, so she decided to find out on her own.

Henry lay curled up in bed, eyes still wide open, the sun creeping over the roofs of the buildings across the Quad and into his room. He hadn't slept. Henry had spent the night reliving that January morning nearly ten years ago and the days that followed. His stomach churned and he pushed down the bile that had risen in his throat. He'd known bringing up Tommy was a bad idea. He knew Elizabeth would keep asking. She would find out what a horrible person he was and how he should've been the one to die and not Tommy. Tommy was loved. Tommy was wanted. Henry could've died instead and Tommy's family would've been kept in tact. No one would have cared if Henry had died. Henry released a shuddering breath. It was so unfair. So many awful things happened and it was all his fault.

Henry remembered spending those days after the accident praying that God take him in place of Tommy. He sighed at the naivety of his ten year old self, thinking that he could trade places with a dead person. Then there was Anna. That was a whole different kind of pain. Maybe a week had passed when he finally figured out how to break out of the closet his mother had locked him in. Henry grimaced now at the thought of how he must have looked and probably smelled after so many days sitting with his own excrement. He wasn't aware of that though. His only thought was to get to Anna. After climbing from the second story window, falling from a decent height and twisting his ankle, he hobbled to their front porch and knocked. When she opened the door, Henry hugged her, mumbling his apologies through sobs. "I know," was all she was able to get out before her husband came up behind her.

"You little son of a bitch," he screamed, yanking Henry away from his wife by the collar of his shirt. "This is all your fault." He tossed Henry down the front porch steps and Henry landed hard on his shoulder on the sidewalk. "It should've been you," the distraught man screamed, glaring at him.

Henry lay on the frozen ground, tears dripping onto the sidewalk, whispering, "I know. I wish it was. If I could take his place, I would."

Anna pulled her husband back by the waist and herded him toward the door. When he was inside, she turned to Henry. "It's alright. Go on home Henry."

Picking himself up off the sidewalk, he trudged, limping, into his house, past his mother who started screaming at him and back up to the closet, where he stepped inside and shut the door.

The next day, Vivian ripped Henry from the closet and shoved him against the window. "Look what you've done," she growled. Henry could see the ambulance parked in front of the Williamses' home, lights still flashing. Henry was confused. He didn't understand and then they brought the gurney out of the house with a person on it. The person was covered with a sheet, but Henry could see Anna's long brown locks hanging off the edge. He shuddered. Mr. Williams followed and stood stoically on the porch.

"What happened?" Henry asked.

"You killed her," Vivian spat as she grabbed him by the hair and bashed his skull into the window sash. The pain exploded in his head and everything turned to black as Henry crumpled to the floor.

Henry pushed himself up on an elbow and looked out the window across the Quad, his cheeks wet with tears. He was at the heart of so much sadness, and now Elizabeth was wrapped up with him. He needed to tell her. Somehow, he hoped that he could escape this part of his past, but he realized that it wasn't possible. He would tell her and she would go her own way and that would be the end of this story.

He rolled out of bed and pulled his running shoes on. He needed a long run to deal with this pain.

Elizabeth pulled back into the parking lot around noon and went to Henry's room to check in, but he wasn't there. She left a note on his bulletin board and headed back over to her room hoping that he would stop by later.

Henry spent most of his day running, trying to outrun his demons and on some level it worked. He only came home to shower before heading into work. Henry saw Elizabeth's note and he felt guilty. "I came by to check on you. Come see me," and she'd signed it E with a heart around it. Henry sighed and left it, going to take his shower. He went to work and had thought that he might go by and see Elizabeth when he got home. Then, when he made it to the Quad, Henry saw her light on and he just couldn't bring himself to face her. His shoulders slumped, he slogged to his room and fell into his bed, drifting into a fitful sleep.

Elizabeth waited all evening for Henry to come by. He didn't, and Elizabeth was at a loss. She wasn't sure if he was still upset or angry at her for bringing it up or embarrassed or what. She hoped she'd have more answers tomorrow after she got the newspaper articles from Pittsburgh.

Henry tossed and turned as he dreamed about that day. It came only in small bits, slivers of scenes. His warnings. The silence on the ice. The cold. "Tommmmmmyyyyyy," he screamed and shot out of bed, drenched in sweat. Checking the clock, he saw that it was nearly 7. He might as well get up and run.

Elizabeth had just come out of the bathroom and entered her room when she looked out the window and caught sight of Henry headed out on his run. She sighed. She had hoped he would come and see her. Elizabeth yawned. She hadn't slept well, both because of worry about Henry and fear about what the newspaper articles would say. They wouldn't arrive until around noon, so there was no sense in going before lunch. The anticipation was making her nauseous. She had no idea what she'd find. Could it be that Henry had done something that contributed to his friend Tommy and Anna's deaths? A large part of her thought that there was no way, but he had already mentioned abuse in his family, so she supposed it was possible. She shook her head to physically rid herself of the thoughts. Speculation wasn't going to help her. She would find out whatever it was and then deal with it.

The steady pounding of Henry's feet hitting the concrete helped calm him. The combination of the sound and rhythmic jarring of his body were desperately needed. He felt like he was splintering into thousands of pieces and it all centered around Elizabeth. Henry let out a ragged breath just thinking of her. He wanted to make something meaningful with her, but he thought of his own brokenness and couldn't see past it. How could he ever make her happy? What could he offer her? He knew nothing of how to be a good boyfriend, or even how to be a good man. He had no examples, even in Tommy's family, Mr. Williams didn't seem like a man that Henry wanted to emulate. He was loving to Thomas, and occasionally Anna, but he saw how she shied away from him or quieted, avoiding confrontation. He didn't want Elizabeth to do that. He knew who he wanted to be, he just had no idea how to make that happen.

His lungs burned and his body ached. It wasn't the kind of pain he really needed, but it helped some. Looking around, he was close to ten miles away from campus. He turned back. He was going to be exhausted, but at least there would be no question about his miles for the week.

Elizabeth puttered around her room until she couldn't stand it any longer and decided she would try going to the mall for a while. She wasn't a shopper, but needed something to pass the time. She went ahead while she was out, and returned the movie Henry rented and found another movie she was interested in watching while she was there. She grabbed a bite to eat at a local diner and meandered around until it was close enough to time that she headed to the library to see what was in the mail.

Once at the library, she flopped down in a leather chair and patiently waited for the mail carrier to arrive. She flipped through several magazines, looked around, and finally picked up a book to read over the rest of break.

When the mail carrier entered the building, it was all Elizabeth could do to keep from tackling him. She let the reference librarian take the letters and packages and tried not to eavesdrop on their amiable conversation. "Get on with it," she thought, but said nothing and finally, the woman turned to Elizabeth.

"This looks like what you are waiting for," the lady said. Elizabeth smiled, nodded and took the envelope, retreating back to her chair to pour over the contents. She pulled the stack of papers out, which was much thicker than she imagined. Her eyes took in the bold print of the headline and they grew wide.

She quickly flipped through the stack and she suddenly stopped and her heart sank when she read the name Anna Williams. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Oh my God." Quickly, she gathered everything back up and stuffed it into the mailer.

"I hope you found what you were looking for Miss Adams," the reference librarian said as Elizabeth passed in front of the desk.

"I know everything I need to know," she said, still reeling from what she'd read. She turned to the woman, who now had a puzzled look. Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you for your help." With that, she dashed down the outside steps and raced to her car, determined to confront Henry about what happened with Tommy, whether he wanted to or not.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Sorry to leave you hanging. Hope this helps.

Chapter 8

Elizabeth sped into the parking lot and pulled into the parking space too fast, hitting the parking stop, which jolted her forward. She leapt from the car and raced up the stairs to Henry's room. She threw the suite door open and pounded on his room door. "Henry!" she called loudly, continuing to beat on his door.

Henry stumbled out of the bathroom, a damp t-shirt pulled over his muscular chest and towel slung low on his waist, held only by the firm grip of his left hand. "Elizabeth? What the hell is going on?" he huffed. She intended to hold his gaze, but couldn't resist letting her eyes trail down his body still wet from his shower. She felt the flutter deep in her core and took a deep breath, hoping to clear her mind. That wasn't why she'd come.

"We need to talk. Right now. I'll wait here while you get dressed." She was still trying to catch her breath from running and moved back from his door and leaned against the opposite wall. When he made no move, she gestured at his door. "Go on."

Henry stepped inside his room and closed the door. He was already on edge and his mind raced. First, he didn't like the tone of voice she'd used on him. He wasn't going to just let Elizabeth boss him around like that. He'd taken far too many orders from his mother. He'd be damned if he took them from her.

Second, he was sure that she was tired of waiting on him to talk about Tommy. She was going to try and press him into it. Part of him said to go ahead and tell her. She'd be mortified and want nothing more to do with him and that would be that. But, there was still that part that hoped they could be something- friends, a couple-something. It was that part of him that pushed for getting dressed and seeing what she had to say.

He opened the door a few minutes later wearing a flannel over a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. When she didn't immediately move, he gestured her in saying, "Come on. What's so damned important?" Elizabeth was shocked by his tone. She didn't think she'd been hateful when she came in, but he obviously perceived it that way. She stepped around him and into his room.

Elizabeth was surprised at his room. Other than the pillow and blanket across the bed, a clock in the window sill, and a comb near the mirror, the room looked unlived in. There was nothing on the desk, nothing on the walls, not even dirty clothes on the floor. He pulled out a chair for her and he took a seat on the bed. "So?" Henry asked, a little agitated.

"I want to know what happened the day Tommy died. I wasn't going to ask, but I think you perceive it differently than it happened. That can happen a lot of times when someone has a trauma."

"Don't try to psychoanalyze me. You weren't there." Henry's words were cutting and she did her best not to react. She told herself that he was scared. It was hard to bring up old hurts. She knew that all too well.

She softened her tone. "Please?" She saw the questioning look and the fear in his eyes. "I won't think badly of you. I promise. You were only a boy."

Henry stared at Elizabeth. He saw an openness there. He believed her. He felt the anger and tension he had ease up a little. She consistently did that. He wondered if she ever got mad. Elizabeth was the most even tempered person he'd ever met, and it caused him to feel guilty that he wasn't able to be calm like she was. He sighed and looked out his window into the Quad.

"There was a big group of us. It was the middle of January, and everyone wanted to go ice skating. It had been warmer the past several days and I tried to convince them that the ice wouldn't be thick enough for all of us to go out on the lake. There was no sign posted when we got there, so everyone just assumed it was fine. And now, looking back on it, it probably would have been okay if there were just a couple people, but there were seven of us." Henry turned his attention back to Elizabeth. "I should have made them listen to me. I knew it wasn't as cold. I knew that ice had to be thinning." Henry's voice cracked, emotion seeping into his words.

"We were all out in the middle of the lake when I first noticed the lack of noise. When it's really cold, you can hear the ice crack as it freezes in the confined space. We were used to it. The noise sort of became part of the background. But I didn't hear it and as we made our way to the middle, it was wet on the surface. I yelled at them and told them they needed to get off the ice. They all looked at me like I had two heads, except Tommy. He immediately started back to the bank. He only made it about six feet and the ice broke and he went down. The sudden shift in the weight of the big group as they tried to move away caused the ice to break under them too. I was a little farther away, so the ice under me was fine, so I went down on my belly and scooted across the ice to the group that was the closest and I helped get them out but it took too long to get to Tommy and he'd gone under." Henry's head was down, and he was silent for several minutes. "I tried to find him. I went in and I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn't keep them open because the cold burned them and it was dark, so I couldn't see anything anyway. Three times, I went under and I flailed around, hoping to catch hold of him and drag him back up, but nothing."

Henry looked up at Elizabeth. "Why is it that Tommy died when he had people that loved him and I didn't? It was such a waste of a good life."

"Not being able to save him doesn't mean you killed him." Elizabeth said softly, her piercing blue eyes boring into him.

"He shouldn't have been there. I should have helped him first. He was trying to get off the ice. He listened to me. He was my friend. Those other kids weren't my friends. I chose them over Tommy and he died. How is that not my fault? And then Anna too. She died because Tommy died."

Elizabeth studied Henry. "I know you feel responsible. But, others didn't see it that way. It really wasn't your fault. "

"How would you know what other people thought?" he snapped with such sharpness that Elizabeth jumped. She handed him the mailer. Henry was confused. He reached inside and pulled out the stack of papers.

Local boys fall through ice, five rescued by one of their own

PIttsburgh mourns loss of Tommy Williams, giving thanks for those that were saved

Tommy Williams laid to rest, friends with him serve as honorary pallbearers

Joey Maguire says that he would've died if a local boy hadn't saved him

James Williams arrested on involuntary manslaughter charges when wife dies one week after son dies in lake accident

James Williams sentenced to ten years in state penitentiary on anniversary of son's death

"Where did you get these?" he asked, keeping his head down. Elizabeth's stomach instantly knotted. His voice had turned angry.

She wrung her hands in her lap. She wasn't sure how she thought it would go, but this wasn't anything she considered. "I requested them from the Carnegie Library in Pittsburgh. I knew you couldn't have done what you said you did, but I knew that's how you saw it. I just wanted to show you-"

"Get out," he interrupted. She took a breath like she might be thinking of saying something else and Henry cut her off. "I said get the fuck out now." Elizabeth was so stunned by the sudden turn of events that she just stared at him.

Henry was clinging to the slimmest shred of rational thought and Elizabeth wasn't moving. He needed her away from him now before he lost control. He couldn't keep the pain contained. She couldn't see that. Yet, there she was, motionless, staring wide eyed at him. He could wait no longer. Henry stood and took the two steps toward Elizabeth. He snatched her out of the chair by her upper arm and marched her out the door, slamming it behind her. His fist followed closely behind. When it made contact with the solid wood door, the pain exploded in his hand and radiated up his arm. The second punch did nothing to alleviate the pain and hurt he felt inside. His emotions took over and by the time he calmed enough to make himself stop, bloody smudges covered the door and his hands were already swelling.

Henry pressed his head to the door and let the tears fall and that's when he heard Elizabeth on the other side of the door sobbing.

Elizabeth was shaken by what had taken place. Not only did she not expect his reaction, what was currently occurring on the other side of the door was scaring her to death. She wanted to run as far away as she could, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Elizabeth recognized that he wanted her away from him. Henry didn't want her to see him fall apart. As lonely as she could be, he sat with it too and for whatever reason, felt like he deserved to be punished. She began to cry. With each crash against the door, she unraveled a little bit more. By the time it stopped, she was sobbing inconsolably.

Henry stood on the opposite side of the door, panicked. He hadn't expected her to stay. Now she'd heard everything and she was probably scared, wondering if he was going to hit her. "Damnit," he half sobbed. He opened his closet door and pulled his wet towel off the hook. He was clumsy. He hands were already swollen to the point that he had limited range of motion, but he cleaned them up pretty well and painfully turned the doorknob and peeked into the hall.

Elizabeth sat cross legged in the middle of the hall, her head dipped down low in her hands. She was crying so hard, she didn't hear him approach. He sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms. She tensed. She had so many conflicting emotions, she didn't know what to address first. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. His forehead was pressed to the side of her head. "You shouldn't have had to be here for that."

She pulled away. "What the hell was that Henry?" she surveyed him, her eyes falling to his hands. His knuckles were all cracked open, blood filling the cracks, but not escaping the borders. They were swelling, his fingers growing thick, the purplish tint of bruising already set in. "I-I don't understand." She swiped at her eyes, clearing them of tears. She looked at him.

Henry's heart broke. How could he explain it to her when he didn't fully understand it? She looked frightened and confused. She looked like he felt, and that caused him even more pain. "I don't either, at least not the why. I just know that sometimes the hurt is so much that it has to escape."

He studied Elizabeth and he saw it written all over her face. Henry shook his head. "I've never hit another person. Ever."

"But you could," she said, her voice almost inaudible.

Henry hung his head. He knew that wasn't the case, but he could see that he wouldn't be able to convince her of that. Still, words came tumbling from his mouth, while shaking his head adamantly. "It's not about other people. It's about my own pain. Things become so overwhelming that I need to feel it. For daily things, I can run hard or lift weights and that will make me uncomfortable enough to manage it. But some things are just too intense, they hurt too much, and I have to make myself hurt just as much.

Elizabeth was quiet while she mulled that over. Finally she looked at him. "Like trading emotional pain for physical pain?" she asked.

He hadn't thought about it like that before. "Maybe," he said, shrugging.

"That's fucked up," she finally said.

Henry's head snapped up. "Says the person who damned near killed herself drinking because she was lonely."

As soon as it came out of his mouth, he knew he shouldn't have said it. But what he witnessed was an equal mix of amazing and sad. Her eyes clouded with the pain his words inflicted, then she set her jaw and took a deep breath. She swallowed and blinked and it was gone. The hurt he'd caused by his words was no longer there. He wasn't foolish enough to think that she'd let it go, or that it didn't hurt her, but there was no trace of it in her expression. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for," he said.

"Don't worry about it. It's fine," she said softly.

"How do you do that?" he asked. She looked at him quizzically. "Just make it all go away."

"I don't follow," she said.

"I know that what I just said was hurtful, because I saw it for a split second. Then it was gone. How do you do that?"

She shrugged. "I guess I just push it out of my mind."

"And when it gets to be too much?"

She smirked. "I have sex with a guy I barely know." She rolled her eyes. "Wise life choices. I'm aware." She looked him over. "Come on," she said, pulling herself to a stand. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

Henry sat on the vanity, his emotions running the gamut. He was so very ashamed. He'd never let anyone see what Elizabeth had just seen, well heard, and even though she was completely freaked out, she was still standing next to him caring for him more gently than anyone ever had in his entire life. It was more than he could wrap his head around. He had never met anyone like Elizabeth.

Once his hands were washed and dried, she led him back to his room and they sat on his bed. "Can you explain why those articles made you so angry? I don't understand. I thought perhaps sad, or surprised or even shocked, but anger?" She let it hang out there expecting him to finish the thought.

"I don't know." She cocked her head to the side and studied him. "No really. I don't know, but I'll think about it and try to figure out why. But I have a question for you. Why did you stay?"

"I didn't want you to be alone. You were hurting." Elizabeth reached out and rested her hand on his forearm.

Henry quickly stood, moving to the window, where he stayed with his back to her. His chest ached and he was in completely unfamiliar territory. "Why are you so kind to me?" He spun around to face her. "I'm not a good person. It's not that I don't want to be, but I'm not now and I have no idea how to get there. And here you are." Henry paced the room in front of her. "I don't get it. I've done nothing to deserve your kindness. In fact, I've done the opposite. Why? What do you want from me?"

Elizabeth sat quietly for a long time. Henry finally gave up and sat down next to her. The silence was becoming uncomfortable.

Elizabeth's thoughts swirled in her mind. She thought she was certifiably insane. Every rational bone in her body said to get up and walk away. Henry was a ticking time bomb and even he didn't know when he would explode. But there was something there. She felt it deep within her. He was caring and it didn't feel manipulative like when her aunt showed an interest in her. He wasn't out for anything. He'd proven that he was willing to give his life for others. Yet, he expected nothing for himself. In fact, he thought he deserved nothing. She looked over at him. "Today I want a friend, and I want to be a friend."

Henry looked at her seriously. "And tomorrow?" he asked.

"I'm reserving the right to ask for more later." Elizabeth gave him a shy smile. "What do you say we get something to eat? I'm starving!" He let a small smile form on his lips


	9. Chapter 9

AN: I appreciate all of the encouraging comments I've received on this story. Thank you for sticking with me.

Chapter 9

January 1987

One Tuesday in the middle of the month, Henry walked into the confessional, sat in front of the priest and made The Sign of the Cross. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It's been ten years since my last confession," Henry began. "I have a multitude of sins and I don't know how to go about fixing them."

"Tell me what's been going on," the priest urged.

Henry sighed, and stared at his hands. "I don't know where to start. You see, growing up in my house was hard, and the things I saw-the things that happened there, are not who I want to be." Henry stopped. He felt so foolish. This had been a bad idea. "Nevermind Father. It's no use." Henry moved to stand from the chair across from the priest. "I shouldn't have wasted your time."

"No, wait! Please stay. I've got nothing but time right now. I'm here for the next three hours." He grinned at Henry. "I don't think we've met officially. I'm Father Matthew. We can get to the confession part in a bit. Let's talk first, okay. I've seen you at Mass recently. Do you go to UVA?"

Henry nodded. "My name's Henry. I'm from Pittsburgh. I'm a freshman at UVA. I used to go to Mass with my friend, Tommy, but then he died and my mother said that I was going to church trying to be something that I wasn't and she wouldn't let me go. It's only been recently that I've considered it important again." He shrugged, thinking he should be somewhat embarrassed that he hadn't been attending Mass, but Fr. Matthew seemed unphased.

Fr. Matthew extended his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Henry." His smile seemed warm and friendly and Henry, shaking his hand, was able to relax a bit. "Tell me about UVA. This is your second semester, right?"

"Yes, I'm here on an ROTC scholarship. It was a struggle at first. College is a lot different than high school, but I worked hard and I did well last semester."

"Good. That's nice to hear. A lot of students find that it's a big adjustment. Not all of them are able to make it and they go home." Fr. Matthew leaned back in his chair, but Henry sat a little straighter.

"Going back home has never been an option. I have to succeed, no matter what." Henry had a sense of urgency in his voice and he wasn't exactly sure why.

"Trying to break away? Separate yourself from where you grew up?" Fr. Matthew offered.

"No." Henry paused. "Actually a little bit, maybe. I don't think I can be who I want to be and still be at home."

"And who is it you want to be Henry?" the priest asked.

Henry's mouth opened, but he had trouble forming the words. Finally, his words came out in a rush. "I want to be strong but never use my strength to hurt someone else, I want to be smart, but never use my intelligence to make someone else feel dumb. I want to build people up instead of tear them down. I want to be able to show emotions in a normal way, in a way that doesn't hurt me or those around me. Most of all, I want to be able to love someone, and accept love."

"Growing up was difficult for you, wasn't it?" Fr. Matthew asked.

Henry hung his head, and mumbled, "Having a shitty childhood doesn't give me a pass to be an asshole."

Fr. Matthew smirked. "Well you're ahead of the game there. Many people think that's a perfect reason to be a jerk. So what are the things you struggle with?" Henry laundry listed his quick temper, defensiveness and problems internalizing anger until he exploded. "Are you sorry? And are you working to prevent these occurrences of sin?"

"That's just it Father. I am sorry after the fact, but I don't know how to prevent it. I only see the aftermath and then I feel guilty. I want to do better. I just don't know how." The whole situation was distressing and Henry knew he sounded like he was whining and that annoyed him, although he tried to hide that, especially in the confessional.

"Here's your penance Henry. I want you to look around in your life and find yourself a man or maybe even a couple of men that you can talk to. Watch them and see how they deal with stress or anger. Ask if you need to. Then try to see if you can apply some of that to your life. Not everything works for everyone, and not everyone is a good example. But, it sounds like you have a good head on your shoulders, and you want to do right, so I think you'll pick good people. That's the first thing. Second, start the habit of trying to count to three before responding. Being defensive and using harsh language is a habit that's been created. By stopping yourself from speaking before you think, you are taking a moment to really think about what someone has said. That will give you the opportunity not to lash out at someone." Henry nodded.

"I think I can do that. I like that, because sometimes I can see that I overreacted right away." Henry said.

"There's one more thing. Come back and see me. Aim for every week. I hang out in the confessional most afternoons. We can chat a bit, okay?" Henry smiled, feeling more sure about the situation now that he felt like there were actual things he could do to get where he wanted to be.

Henry said his contrition and received absolution. He shook hands with Fr. Matthew and headed to work, a smile covering his face.

"Hey Don? Can I ask you something?" Henry leaned a shoulder against the wall next to where the older man was working.

"Sure, what's up?" Don flipped a row of burgers and stepped back, looking at Henry.

"You've been married quite a while, haven't you?" Henry shifted, pushing himself upright.

"Yeah. It will be 34 years in March." He tilted his head slightly and eyed the nervous young man.

Henry was very uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how to ask for what he wanted in a way that didn't sound ridiculously stupid. He sighed and looked about to make sure Rufus and Sam weren't in earshot. "You see, I didn't grow up-I mean, my parents, well they-I need to know how-ugh! This isn't coming out right at all. Nevermind. It's not a big deal." He turned to walk away.

"Henry, get back over here. I can't chase you down. My burgers will burn." Henry glanced over his shoulder and Don waved him back. "Now say whatever it is that you came to say. You're too smart to be all wishy washy like this."

"Alright. It's like this. My childhood really sucked and my parents were all messed up and they made me all messed up and I want to be a good man and have a good relationship and someday be a good husband and father and all that stuff, but I can't because I've never seen what any of that looks like and I wanted to know if you would help me." Henry let out a big breath, thankful that he got all of that off his chest, but he was afraid to make eye contact with Don.

"So, you think I'd be a good person to help you out with that?" Don asked. Henry shrugged.

"I've worked with you for several months and we get busy and it's stressful and I've never once seen you get mad or snap at anyone or even act like it phases you. You talk about your wife like you love her and all your kids are grown and they come back to visit all of the time, so they must think you're okay?" Suddenly he was nervous. Maybe he'd overestimated his level of friendliness with Don. Maybe he was overstepping.

Don grinned. "That's kind of cool. I don't know that anyone has ever thought about me like that before. Normally, I'm just kind of a ho hum guy."

"If you're ho hum, then that's what I aspire to be," Henry said.

Don grinned, "Just let me know what I need to do."

"I'm not exactly sure yet, but probably just answering questions and telling me how it is."

"I feel like I should tell my kids that someone actually came to me for advice instead of me just doling it out as I see fit." Don laughed at himself and Henry joined him, happier than he'd been in quite a while.

Henry and Elizabeth fell into a new rhythm once second semester began. They didn't get to see each other as much, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. They studied together two afternoons a week and tried to hang out on one weekend night depending on when Henry had to work.

Elizabeth noticed a change in Henry over the weeks following Christmas. Overall, he seemed more at ease. He'd only snapped at her a few times and recognized it immediately and apologized. It looked like he was letting the small annoyances slide and not getting bothered by them. By the beginning of the February, Elizabeth had pushed the old Henry out of her mind. She was really starting to like the new and improved version of him and had plans to broach the topic of taking their friendship to the next level.

She quickly answered the door when the knock came late Friday evening, a few days after Valentine's Day. When she opened the door, Henry stood there grinning at her, takeout from the diner in his hand. She laughed. "You certainly know the way to my heart!"

"Double cheeseburger and onion rings as requested!" Without bothering to look, she grabbed his free hand and pulled him into her room. She caught his wince and looked down at the hand she was squeezing. The back of his hand was bruised, and three knuckles were split open. He quickly pulled his hand away from her and set the food on her desk. "Do you have anything to drink? If not, I'll run over and get sodas from the vending machine," he offered.

"Henry. I thought you weren't going to do that anymore." Her words were soft, but the judgement felt harsh.

Henry took a deep breath and counted to five. "You said I shouldn't and I agreed. I know I shouldn't but that doesn't mean it will just automatically stop." Henry made a concerted effort to keep his tone even and not defensive.

"What happened?"

"It doesn't really matter," Henry said. Elizabeth opened her mouth like she was going to argue, but physically pulled herself back.

"There's water in the fridge. Go ahead and help yourself. I'm going to use the bathroom. Be back in a minute." Elizabeth slipped through the crack in her door and closed it behind her. Stepping into the bathroom, she took a deep breath, and then another. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the emotion. It pained her that Henry was still hurting himself. She had put what she witnessed out of her mind, thinking that with his purposeful changes in behavior, that it was a thing of the past, but now there was physical proof that Henry still struggled. Elizabeth drew in a ragged breath and forced her tears away, pushing all of those concerns deep within her.

Henry watched Elizabeth shudder with the knowledge that he still had trouble containing his anger. She'd asked about it and then escaped into the bathroom. It had been quite a while. He got up and went to knock on the bathroom door. When she didn't answer, he peeked inside. She was sitting on the vanity, clutching the edge, taking deep breaths.

Instinctively, he went to Elizabeth, stepped between her legs and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and whispered, "I'm sorry this upsets you."

She tensed for a split second before relaxing in his arms. "I'm fine," she said.

"You aren't," he said, suddenly overwhelmed by the softness of her skin against his cheek and the smell of the vanilla in her hair. He shifted, pressing his lips to her pulse point.

"Henry," she whimpered.

"What?" he asked, moving up her neck to the soft spot behind her ear.

"We're in the bathroom," she said, her words coming out a little breathy.

"Right. Of course! And we have to eat." Henry pulled her off the vanity to stand next to him. "Come on." He took Elizabeth by the hand and led her back to her room.

They sat cross-legged on her bed, eating their burgers and sharing an order of onion rings. Elizabeth studied Henry while she ate her sandwich. "I thought you were doing better," she said.

"I am doing better," Henry said tersely. "Wait. Sorry." Henry took a deep breath. "In a lot of ways, I am better, but I have a lot of things that I used to survive that are hindrances now, but I've relied on them so long. It's hard to just say 'I'm going to change, and then just change.' I want to stop doing it, and I will, but I've got to work through some stuff and I need some better way to deal with what leads me to do it I the first place."

"Will you tell me what happened now? Talking about it might help," she offered.

"It was really just a bunch of smaller things I couldn't let go. I didn't do as well on my American History exam as I wanted. I got called out during drills. I messed up an order at work and the customers were angry. It was just too much. I don't know." Henry looked away.

"I hate that your mother made you believe that you should be punished for everything that goes wrong. No person, and especially no child, should be made to feel that way. Everyone deserves to feel loved." Elizabeth gently placed her hand on Henry's. "It hurts me when you hurt yourself."

"I'm working on it. I promise. Oh hey, I was going to ask if you had plans Monday night. Don and his wife, Christy, invited me, and you, if you are interested, to their house for dinner." Henry looked at her hopefully.

"Don is one of the guys you work with?" she asked, trying to recollect if that's where she's heard the name. He nodded.

"He's been a good friend and I've been to visit a couple times, but they would like to meet you because I talk about you all of the time."

"You talk about me?" Elizabeth asked, a blush creeping across her face.

"Of course. I talk about you. Don says I'm smitten with you." He grinned at her. "I have a tendency to agree." Henry tucked a loose hair behind her ear and rested his hand on her cheek.

Elizabeth gently held his hand and turned her head, placing a kiss on his palm. "And I have a tendency to happily accept your smittenness and return it in equal measure."

Henry laughed. "Is that even a word?"

"I just made it a word. Thank you very much." She hopped off the bed and went to her closet. "Speaking of making words," she said, pulling out the rectangular box. "Do you want to play Scrabble?"

Friday night became Saturday morning and finally they were too exhausted to continue playing. Henry slid off the bed, placed the game on her desk and moved to leave. "Will you stay?" she asked.

"Stay over? With you?" Henry was visibly surprised. That was a big step he wasn't aware they were making.

"I'm smitten, you're smitten. And I'm not talking about sex. Just being together." She moved from the bed and stepped in close to him and murmured, "I just want to feel you next to me." She looked up at him shyly.

They hadn't done anything other than the occasional hug since their escapade on Christmas Day. Henry had upped the game by kissing her neck earlier in the evening and Elizabeth really wanted more. She had been unsettled by his hand, knowing that he still hit things, but the way he'd explained it made sense to her.

Henry thought about it. He wanted to take the next step, but he was concerned about ruining things between them. "Are you sure? This isn't rushing anything?"

"No. I promise. I'm ready,"


	10. Chapter 10

AN: We've hit roughly the halfway point. I'd love to know what you think. Please review. Thanks to all those that have taken the time to do so.

Chapter 10

Elizabeth yawned and curved her back, stretching, trying to rid her body of the stiffness a deep sleep brings. She stopped mid-stretch when her back pushed into something and she became acutely aware of the hand resting on her hip. She hadn't even opened her eyes yet, but the corners of her mouth turned upward into a small smile.

She scooted back the slightest bit so that she could pull Henry's hand around her middle. She tangled her fingers in his and let them rest on her stomach. Their heads now touched and she felt the tiny puff of his breath on her neck each time he exhaled.

She couldn't remember the last time she felt this, whatever this was. She couldn't put a name to the feeling exactly. It wasn't really love, but maybe a step before that, extreme like? She grinned at her own silliness. It felt cozy and warm and comforting.

Elizabeth kept her eyes closed and thought back to the previous night. Henry had shed his socks and button down shirt, but insisted he keep his t-shirt and jeans on and slipped between her sheets, resting on his side. Elizabeth grabbed her PJs from her drawer and went to the bathroom to change. She returned, flipped off the light, and scooted in next to him. "I don't know what you want me to do," Henry said, feeling uneasy.

"You don't have to do anything. Just be here with me," she murmured. Henry slipped one arm under the pillow cradling her head and the other rested on her arm. Elizabeth scooted backwards into his chest and let herself relax in a way that she hadn't in quite a long time.

Henry watched her and listened to her breathing even out into the slow softness of sleep. He was strangely comforted by her warmth, but all of the insecurities that he carried everywhere with started swirling in his head. He tried hard to push them away. Elizabeth was different. She was kind. She would never treat him like his mother had. Henry buried his nose in Elizabeth's hair and inhaled deeply. Her scent grounded him. It kept him in the present and pushed the past back. He let his hand slide into a more comfortable position on her hip and fell into a deep sleep.

Elizabeth squeezed Henry's hand and revelled in the feeling, knowing it would end all too soon. She'd almost fallen back asleep when Henry's fingers tightened around hers. His breathing quickened and he moaned. "Henry? Are you okay?" she asked, squirming to turn over to face him.

He moaned louder and shrank back, pressing himself to the wall. Elizabeth placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him. "Henry, wake up!" His eyes shot open and shifted around wildly.

It took Henry a few seconds to realize where he was and to fully wake up. He sat up, pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head there. Elizabeth placed her hand on his shoulder and he jerked away from her. She sat quietly next to him not knowing exactly what to do.

It took several minutes but he finally talked himself down a bit. "I'm sorry. When I have those dreams, it's like I'm right back there. I feel it like it's real. It just takes a bit to talk myself back to the now."

"What were you dreaming about?" she asked.

"I don't think that's something you want to know," he said.

"Have you ever talked about the things that happened to you with anyone?"

Henry looked at Elizabeth like she had two heads. "Of course not."

"I think you should. I think you need someone else to listen and weigh in. You seem to blame yourself or take responsibility for a lot of things that probably have nothing to do with you. Maybe someone else listening and giving outside feedback could help you let go. It doesn't have to be me. Maybe Don or Doofus, or the priest that you visit with sometimes.

Henry looked at her with a grin on his face. "It's Rufus, but I'll be sure to let him know you called him Doofus. That's good."

"I'm serious Henry," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"You don't-" he started, his voice sharp, and then he stopped himself and took a deep breath. "You know how you push all of the slights and hurts deep within yourself because you can't handle thinking about them?" Henry didn't give her time to respond before he continued. "This is the same thing. I've pushed all of the pain down for so long. I'm scared of what it will look like when it comes out."

Elizabeth took his bruised hand gently in her own. "It looks like this and sometimes it looks worse. We need to replace our painful memories with something good." She placed kisses on the back of his hand.

Henry nearly came apart at her words. He wanted so much to buy in whole-heartedly. He wanted to put his trust in Elizabeth, but he couldn't get his mother's voice out of his head. "Stupid! Trash! Better off dead! Waste of breath! Worthless!" He blinked and scooted around Elizabeth and off the bed.

"I need to get going," he mumbled, pulling his socks back on and sticking his feet in his tennis shoes. "I have to work in a few hours and I have some studying to do." He turned quickly and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "Thanks for last night. I'll see you soon." He left and Elizabeth watched him through her window as he walked hurriedly across the Quad to his room.

Elizabeth sighed. She wished she knew what she did in those moments that made Henry completely shut down. It hurt her to be dismissed in that way, but she pushed the hurt away. She could take it easier than he could, at least that's how it was going to be rationalized today.

An hour later, a showered Henry showed up in the library with the intention of getting some things done. He rounded the corner and found Elizabeth sitting at their table. His breath caught in his throat. Her hair was piled on top of her head, fastened securely with two yellow #2 pencils. She wore a ragged looking UVA sweatshirt, jeans (probably her favorite ones, with the knees ripped out and the tear at the rivets on the back pockets), and white canvas shoes.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, setting his backpack down.

"I had some studying to do," Elizabeth replied quietly.

"And?" Henry knew there was more to it. Elizabeth dropped her gaze as if suddenly fascinated by her hands laying in her lap.

"And, I wanted to check on you. You seemed upset when you left this morning and I wanted to make sure you were alright." She didn't look up.

Henry sighed. "I'm sorry I'm so difficult."

"Stop saying stuff like that Henry," Elizabeth said with force. Henry's head snapped up and he gave her a hard stare. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to call you out. It's just that you don't need to talk down about yourself." She reached out and caught his hand. "If I'm doing something that you don't like, just tell me. It's hard to change a behavior that I am unaware of."

Henry closed his eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong. That's the problem. It's me. It's in my head. You were being kind and sweet and caring and I just can't get the negative thoughts out of my head."

Elizabeth pushed the chair out with her foot, then tugged on his hand until he sat down in the chair. "The next time you start thinking those thoughts, you repeat. "Elizabeth thinks I'm smart, and caring, and kind." She glanced around the near empty library before shifting into his lap. "And strong, and handsome, and compassionate." Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her face in his neck and began kissing her way up. "Elizabeth thinks I'm smart, kind, and caring." She started to nibble on his earlobe. "Handsome, strong," she whispered in his ear. "Now, will you please kiss me?"

Henry pulled away and looked at her. He saw a softness and kindness in her eyes. Henry wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her to him. "I desperately don't want to mess this up."

"I promise. You won't mess anything up. Kiss me, please," she begged.

He pressed his lips gently to hers for a moment before pulling her top lip between his. Tentatively, he parted his lips and his tongue brushed over her lip. She eagerly reciprocated, darting her tongue out to touch his. Henry smiled. Elizabeth pulled back, "What?" she gave him a shy, unsure look.

"I kinda like you," he said, grinning.

"Just kinda?" she asked.

"Kinda a lot." He shrugged, pulling her a little closer. He pecked Elizabeth on the lips. "I really do need to study."

"I know. We're okay though?" she asking, stroking his fingers gently.

"We're okay." Henry kissed her again.

April 1987

Elizabeth reclined on the couch at Don and Christy's house. After their first visit to Henry's coworker's house, back in February, they tried to make it an every other week date. They always came early before dinner and Christy drafted Elizabeth to help in the kitchen making side dishes while Henry and Don grilled the meat, out on the deck, now that the early April weather was warmer.

Christy handed Elizabeth a cup of coffee before sitting down next to her. "So, I can tell that you and Henry are growing closer."

Elizabeth blushed. "We are, especially since spring break."

"Is Henry the one?" Christy asked a curious look covering her face.

"I'd like to think so, but I don't know if he feels the same way about me that I do about him."

"You should have that conversation. It's only fair to the both of you that you be on the same page. Any relationship that's going to last and be happy needs to have good communication." Elizabeth could feel Christy's gaze as the older woman spoke.

Elizabeth had conflicting feelings about Christy's couple advice. On one hand, she needed someone to confide in. Aunt Joan had proven herself worthless long ago. She had friends on campus, but some of the questions she had were sensitive and she just didn't trust people. She'd been burned too many times. Christy was kind and willing to listen, but Elizabeth didn't feel like they knew each other well enough to ask the questions she wanted to ask. That, and Don was her husband. She knew that Henry spent a lot of time talking to Don. It seemed like some sort of conflict of interest for both of them to be sharing with spouses. The last thing she wanted was their relationship to become Don and Christy's pillow talk.

"Sometimes it's hard to know when it's a good time to bring things up," she finally said.

"The solution isn't to pretend like conflict doesn't exist and hope it goes away." Christy said pointedly.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to say that she was wrong, but with the look Christy gave her, she knew it would be in vain. "My parents never fought."

Christy let that sit a moment and sipped her coffee. "When two people are together for any length of time, there will be some disagreement. It's just a fact. Now, I didn't know your parents, but if you never saw them disagree, or argue or sometimes just be out of sorts with each other, it was because they were very good at hiding it. It wasn't because they didn't do it."

"Well I'm telling you that they didn't," Elizabeth said defensively.

"Or maybe one of your parents was just very good at always giving in to avoid the conflict altogether. Maybe that's where you learned to do it so well." Christy raised her eyebrows at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth clenched her jaw. Christy was out of line, but this wasn't the time to pick a fight. Even as she thought it, the irony was not lost on her, and Christy knew it too. Elizabeth let it go.

"I can't lose him," Elizabeth blurted out suddenly, shocked that she not only thought that, but would speak it aloud.

"Telling Henry how you feel isn't going to make him leave. You aren't giving him enough credit. You don't trust him. If this is going to work long term, you have to let go of your need to control everything."

"I don't know that I can," Elizabeth mumbled. "It's how I keep from falling apart."

"No, that's how you kept from falling apart. Things need to be different going forward."

After dessert, Henry and Elizabeth bid Don and Christy goodbye and set out walking back to campus. It was a mile, but the evening was fair and the walk gave them a chance to talk. Henry slipped his arm around Elizabeth's waist as they walked and she leaned into him. "How was Don?" Elizabeth asked.

"Good. He commented on how close we seemed to be getting," Henry replied.

"Christy did too." Elizabeth said. Henry felt there was more, but Elizabeth didn't volunteer.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked. They walked on, the rhythmic thump of their shoes on the pavement becoming unsettling.

"Yeah," she said, looking away.

"Liar," he whispered. "What happened?"

"She said we won't last long term because I can't let go of the control." Her voice cracked and the tears wanted to push their way out. To keep that from happening, she squeezed her eyes shut. With her eyes closed, she didn't see the crack in the sidewalk and went catapulting forward. Henry caught her by the waist before she could face plant into the concrete.

When she opened her eyes, the tears started to fall. Henry wiped them away with his shirt sleeve and pulled her into a warm embrace. "You don't need to shoulder everything, because I've got you. Always." Letting her go, he looked into her still watery eyes. "Elizabeth Adams, I think I love you, and we'll figure it out."

Henry's heart hammered in his chest as the look of shock rolled across Elizabeth's face. Obviously, he'd read her wrong. She didn't feel about him the way he felt about her. Maybe she realized Christy was right and she was trying to figure out a way to distance herself. As the seconds ticked by, Henry got more and more worked up, for the first time in a few weeks, he heard Vivian McCord's voice creep into his thoughts.

Elizabeth was stunned. She couldn't even process it at first. "You love me?" she whispered. When she came back to reality, the look in Henry's eyes was unmistakable. "Henry! No! Look at me Henry!" She placed her hands on his cheeks. Finally his eyes met hers. "I think I love you too." She pulled his head down to meet hers. Elizabeth raised up on her tip toes and brushed her lips against Henry's. He immediately banded his arms around her waist and held her against his body. He deepened the kiss, driving Vivian's words from his mind. Elizabeth felt the familiar stirrings of arousal deep within her, but this time, it wasn't coming from a place of desperation. Her need stemmed from a desire to be one with Henry. "Spend the night with me Henry. Let me love you."


	11. Chapter 11

AN: I waited to post this because several people posted updates or new stories over the past couple days. I figure it's always fun to see new things daily, so I waited. :) Thank you so much to everyone who is reading this story. I really appreciate the feedback I've received, even though I figured I would be blackballed by now for making Henry less than perfect. LOL It works out in the end though, I promise.

Chapter 11

May 1987

Henry rolled over expecting cuddle into Elizabeth, but the spot was empty. He frowned, wondering when she got up and left. He squinted at the clock. It was only 4 am. He peered out his window and her light was off across the Quad. Still tired from their previous activities, he lay back down figuring he would see her in the morning.

Henry woke just after 7 and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. With Elizabeth's room still dark, Henry decided to go for his daily run. He was dismayed to find that Elizabeth's car was missing from its space. "Maybe she went for coffee," he mumbled and took off. He checked periodically throughout the day but she never returned.

Henry told himself that she wasn't accountable to him. She didn't need to keep him informed of her whereabouts. But she generally did and the fact that she'd been gone all day was worrisome. He headed into work late that afternoon wondering if she'd be home that night.

MSMSMSMSMS

"Lizzie! What are you doing here?" Will exclaimed, walking into the kitchen on Saturday morning.

"Nice to see you too." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, for Christ's sake Lizzie, that's not what I meant and you know it. I thought you were going to to be home after finals in another week. Could you lose the drama for just a bit? It's exhausting!"

"Sorry," Elizabeth mumbled as she took a sip of coffee. She said nothing more, staring out the window into the early morning fog.

Will fixed himself breakfast and quietly watched her. Lizzie always had a tendency toward the melodramatic in his eyes, but this was more. He weighed his options trying to decide if he ventured opening Pandora's Box so early in the day. "What the hell," he muttered, moving to sit next to her.

"When did you get here?" he asked nonchalantly, knowing full well that he'd arrived home at 1am and she wasn't back then. She looked up at him and shrugged. For the first time he actually looked closely at his sister. She looked rough, her eyes deep set and puffy, skin blotchy and her hair somewhat matted but quickly pulled into a ponytail. "When was the last time you slept?" She shrugged again, standing to fetch another cup of coffee.

Will watched her curiously. He and Lizzie had often been at odds, but he felt like he could tell when her drama was perceived and when she really had something going on. "Alright, spill it," he finally said.

She looked over at him. "You must be having some sort of serious guilt complex. This is the most in depth conversation we've had since," she paused. "Ever."

He surveyed her carefully. They weren't close, but he did love her and she was the only remaining member of his nuclear family. "Then you should take advantage of it, because it probably won't happen for another 17 years." He cocked his head and gave her a small grin. "So what brings you to a place you can't stand to be with people you don't care for in the middle of the night?"

"I care for you. It just isn't reciprocated," she said softly.

He would've argued that people around her cared, but because it didn't look like what she thought it should, she didn't accept it, but saying those things would be a surefire way to end the conversation before it started. "I don't want to fight. I want to talk," Will insisted.

"I want a relationship like Mom and Dad had," Elizabeth said still staring out the window.

Will narrowed his eyes and his lip furled unintentionally. "Why?" he asked, not attempting to conceal his disdain. "It's not like they were a model couple."

Elizabeth tensed. "Be careful what you say Will. I'm warning you. They loved each other."

"I'm not saying they didn't, but they didn't have the healthiest of relationships. Definitely not something to emulate."

"What are you talking about? They were always happy."

"Did we even grow up with the same parents? They weren't speaking to each other half the time and the other half they spent yelling at each other." Will was perplexed. "But, I'm not going to discuss them. What's that have to do with you now?"

"I fell in love," she murmured, clutching her coffee mug, as if somehow holding it tighter made it easier to talk.

"Wow. That's good, isn't it? What's his name?"

"Henry, and yes, you would think it is good, but it's all going wrong and I don't know what to do to fix it," Elizabeth said.

"What do you think is wrong? You know Lizzie, you read a lot into things that just aren't there. Your brain could shut up every once in a while and you'd be okay." Elizabeth gave Will the side eye, but said nothing.

"There are things we don't agree on or things I don't like, but I let them go because I don't want to argue and what started out as being a few things is now a lot of things and I feel like I'm not even me anymore." She took another sip of coffee. "We were talking about plans for this summer and I just got overwhelmed and came here."

"Lizzie," Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "If this guy, Henry, is your real guy, then you have to get it all out in the open. You can't be just keep going along to get along. You're entirely too opinionated for that kind of bullshit." He studied her. "Why do you think you're going to fight about things anyway?"

She started to get defensive. "I don't know that we will, but I don't want to take the chance."

"Take what chance?" Will was letting his irritation at this seemingly circular conversation get the better of him.

"Take the chance of losing the only person who loves me!" she spat, leaping from her chair and running from the room.

Will scrubbed his hand over his face. He thought it through and against his better judgement, got up to go find her. Knocking softly, he opened the door gently and saw her curled up in her window seat staring out the window. He was momentarily distracted from his purpose. "What do you think about when you stare off like that?" he asked.

Elizabeth turned and glanced over her shoulder at Will, who stood, leaning in the doorframe, hands in his pockets. "I spend a lot of time wondering why I didn't go with you that day. Maybe things would look different."

"Hell yeah, things would look different. You might be dead and I'd have nobody," Will snapped. Elizabeth turned to look at him.

"But I still have nobody." Her head hung low.

"Because you have this idealized idea of what love looks like and no one ever meets your expectations." Will's voice crept incrementally louder with each word. "Mom and Dad weren't who you have built them up to be. They were good people, but they were flawed, just like the rest of us. Well, that is everyone but you." Will stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Elizabeth turned back to the window and pressed her forehead to the glass, and tears ran down her cheeks. She wondered how things got so messed up. She thought back to Christy and how she'd said that Elizabeth needed to trust Henry, trust in their love. She could see that she probably needed to do that with others in her life as well. It was a frightening prospect to let go and put her heart on the line again. She didn't know if she could do it.

"Lizzie?" came the voice and a hand touched her shoulder. She sighed. Aunt Joan. Joan joined her on the window seat, turning so she could face Elizabeth. "You know, outside of the funeral, I don't think I've ever seen you cry."

Elizabeth laughed sharply. "I guess I just hide it really well."

"You want everyone to think you're strong, that you have it all together, impenetrable. But it doesn't have to be like that. You can be both strong and open."

"I'm not putting myself out there to be hurt over and over again," Elizabeth said.

"But doesn't closing yourself off hurt too?" Joan asked. Elizabeth would have to think about that, but she changed the direction of conversation instead.

"What was my parents' marriage like?" she asked.

Joan paused, "I'd think you would know better than I. I only saw your parents once a month, if that."

"Will and I seem to have wildly different recollections of how things were." She stared out the window again.

"Hmm, how so?" Joan wanted to know.

"Will only remembers stoney silences punctuated with arguing. I only remember the good. They never fought and were always loving to us and each other." She turned her head back to look at Joan. "How can memories of the same thing be so different?"

"I think our minds mold memories into what they need to be. You need your memories to give you the love that you think you aren't getting in your real life. I did the same thing when Uncle Grant died. After a few years, I finally realized it wasn't going to be the same and I had to create a new life and find love elsewhere."

Joan stopped for a moment and Elizabeth thought she might be done talking, then suddenly she continued. "I think you're probably both right. All couples have times when they disagree, don't get along or just plain argue. But that doesn't mean they don't love each other. Communication is hard and messy and sometimes we hurt the ones we love, but staying silent in order to try and avoid the messiness will only lead to resentment." Elizabeth sat with those words for quite a while.

Getting no feedback, Joan rose to leave. She made it about halfway across the room before Elizabeth realized she'd left. "Joan, wait." The older lady turned. Elizabeth slid off the window seat and crossed the room and enveloped her in a hug. "Thank you."

Joan beamed. "You're welcome." She took Elizabeth's hand. "Let's get something to eat and you can tell me all about your certain someone." Elizabeth looked surprised.

"How'd you know?" she asked.

"You haven't been home since Christmas break and you come a week before finals and end up discussing how your parents loved each other? That screams budding romance to me," Joan said.

Elizabeth grinned. "His name is Henry."

MSMSMSMSMS

Elizabeth pulled into the diner parking lot just after 5, knowing Henry would be at work. She figured he would be upset that she just took off without telling him, and rightly so. They were serious enough that she should let him know where she was, just as a courtesy, so he didn't worry. She'd left on a whim at 2 am, after a week of swallowing slights that Henry likely had no idea he was committing, and culminating in yet more seriously unsatisfying sex. She'd been frustrated and needed to get away. After talking with Joan, she realized how unfair it was to Henry to let him believe that everything was fine when it wasn't. She saw how the feelings of resentment were festering and she promised herself that she would try to address the problem. She just had to gather the nerve to get it done.

Elizabeth stepped into the diner and Sam greeted her. "Welcome to Oscar's. How many at your table this evening?"

Elizabeth felt a little awkward. "Umm, I'm actually looking for Henry. Is there any chance I can see him for a few minutes?"

Recognition flashed across Sam's face. "You must be Elizabeth. I'm Sam. I'm so excited to finally meet you. Come on. I'll take you back." Sam linked her arm through Elizabeth's and ushered her toward the kitchen.

From behind them a voice called out, "Uh, hon. We're still waiting to be seated."

"And you're gonna wait another minute or two. I'll be back," she called out before muttering under her breath, "Some people act like they are the only ones who deserve service, geez!" Elizabeth chuckled as Sam pushed the double doors open that led to the kitchen. "Ohhh HEN-ry! I found a friend of yours!"

Henry looked up from the salad station and a tentative smile crossed his face. "Hey Rufus. Can you cover for me for a few minutes?" Henry wiped his hands and moved toward Elizabeth. "Babe," he said placing his hands on her waist. "Are you okay? Where did you go?" He pulled them together and hugged her. "I was worried about you."

"I'm sorry Henry. I went home for the day." A puzzled expression crossed Henry's face. "I'm fine, but I'd like to spend some time with you tonight. I want to talk about a few things." The alarm was evident across Henry's face. "Really, I promise, things are fine. Do you think you can bring us some dinner?" Henry nodded slowly. "Thanks. I'll see you tonight." She leaned in and and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Pulling back she saw the uneasiness in his eyes. Immediately, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him back to her mouth, their lips fit together perfectly and her tongue slid in beside his, teasing him. Henry relaxed into the kiss and when Elizabeth finally let go of him, she said, "Really, I promise everything is fine. I love you and I'll see you tonight. Don't forget to bring me food." Giving him a little wave, she disappeared through the double doors back into the dining room.

"Wow Henry, and all this time I thought you might be making her up," Rufus said. "I bet she looks fucking incredible when she comes!" He laughed and clapped Henry on the shoulder as he passed back to his station.

"Oh my God, seriously! Could you ever just shut your mouth? Ugh!" Henry said, giving the man a shove sideways. "That's not any of your business." Rufus laughed.

"What's not his business?" Sam asked as she passed through. Rufus shot Henry the "don't rat me out" look and Henry raised his eyebrows.

"Never again," Henry said and Rufus threw his hand up in concession. "I'm not kidding, not one more word." Rufus nodded in agreement and sheepishly turned back to his station. "It was nothing important. Just Rufus being Rufus," Henry said in Sam's direction.

Henry worked the rest of his shift, his mind going in all directions. What did Elizabeth want to talk about? Why did she spend the day away and why didn't she tell him that she was going? He tried to calm himself down. She had seemed fine, although he knew her well enough to know that she could mask any emotion she wanted. As his shift ended, Henry found that he was torn between wanting to run to Elizabeth's room as fast as he could and taking his time dragging it out as long as possible. He was nervous about what he was going to be facing when he got there.

Elizabeth paced her room. She'd been fine when she saw Henry at the diner, but as the clock ticked past ten, she grew more anxious. Henry would be coming soon and she had no idea what she was going to say. She'd spent the evening practicing different ways to bring up the topic, but so far, everything seemed contrived. Elizabeth finally decided she'd have to wing it, because now that she'd brought it up, Henry would push to know.

The soft knock came close to eleven, much later than she was expecting. Elizabeth rushed to open the door. "Hey!" she said, "Busy night? It's late."

"Not really. I just took my time." Elizabeth just nodded and held the door open wider so Henry could enter.

"What's for dinner?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Chef salads. I was hoping we could talk first and then eat," Henry said, sticking the bag inside the mini fridge in the corner of the room, before sitting down in her desk chair.

Elizabeth's shoulders slumped and she sighed. "I was really hoping to use the eating time to gear up."

Vivian's words started seeping into Henry's thoughts. "You think you're so much better than the rest of us. Going to a fancy school, hanging around rich people. You think you're one of them, but you will never be. You're worthless trash." They words continued to inundate Henry. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists trying to push them away. Finally he could take no more. "Could you just get on with it?" he snapped at Elizabeth.

"That! I need you to stop doing that." She flopped down on her bed, but immediately stood back up and started pacing. "You snap at me and dismiss me and I don't know why and I just take it because I love you and I don't want you to think I'm needy or add to whatever makes you think that you need to hurt yourself, because I never want to do that. But, it's taking a toll on me. I'm starting to feel like your emotional punching bag and I don't even recognize myself anymore. So, I need to start being honest with you about that stuff." She turned to face him as he stood. "And pray that you are alright with me saying what I think and not walk out on me because of it."

"I didn't picture you as the praying type," Henry said, stepping closer to her.

Elizabeth looked down at the floor and gave him a one shoulder shrug. "I'm not, but in certain circumstances, even I recognize that I need outside help."

Henry chuckled. Elizabeth looked up and gave him a hurt look. "I'm sorry. That was amusing." He pulled her close and kissed her cheek. "Come and sit with me." He pulled her to the edge of the bed and they sat down. "I've been holding back too. But first, I'm sorry. I didn't even realize I was doing that or it made you feel that way." Henry scooted around to face her. "Just now, and I bet most of the time that I do it, it has to do with my mother." Elizabeth's faced wrinkled in confusion. "When I feel nervous or maybe insecure or angry, her words get in my head and play on repeat getting louder and more consuming until I lash out like I just did."

"I'm trying to find better ways to deal with it, without hitting anything, but snapping at you isn't acceptable either." He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I'm sorry. Being with me is a challenge."

"My brother was quick to remind me that hanging around me is no picnic either," she smirked, the self deprecation thick in her voice. Scooting closer, she rested her head on Henry's shoulder. "What does she say to you?"

Henry's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "That I'm worthless and stupid and foolish for thinking I could be anything more than what I came from." His head hung lower. "That someone like you would never love someone like me."

"Henry," she pulled back, raising her hand to cup his jaw, lifting his face so their eyes could meet. "I love you so much and I'm terrified of losing you." Elizabeth's hand moved to tangled in his hair and she pulled him closer so she could kiss him. It was slow and emotional and when they broke, she had tears in her eyes.

"What?" he asked, caressing her cheek, holding her close.

"Nothing really. I just want you to know that I won't ever give up on us."

"Me either. Our love will bring us through anything." He leaned into her, pushing her back toward the mattress, bringing their lips together once again. Their tongues moved together as if in a well choreographed dance. When his hand brushed the bare skin under the hem of her shirt, she moaned.

Suddenly Rufus's words came to mind and he pulled away from Elizabeth, towering over her. "You don't, do you?" he questioned.

"Do what?" she asked, somewhat breathless.

"Come," he said, softly.

"Huh?' Elizabeth was confused, but had a feeling she knew what he meant.

Henry sat back up and pulled her with him. He didn't realize how awkward it would be to speak it aloud until he went to say it. "When we-uh-have sex." He took a deep breath. "How often do you-uh-you know-come?" He set his jaw and waited for the answer.

"Excuse me?" she asked. Her insides were flipping. This wasn't an issue she'd prepared herself to deal with, but being asked so directly, nothing short of a lie was going to get her out of it.

Henry watched her expression carefully. Elizabeth knew exactly what he'd asked her. He'd caught her off guard and her lack of an immediate response pretty much answered the question, but he waited to see how truthful she'd be. "I asked if you orgasm when we have sex."

"Uh," Elizabeth was terrified to answer this truthfully. There was absolutely no way she was going to get out of this without offending Henry. "It's not that I don't enjoy it."

"So, the answer is no," he said. She studied him. The reaction was going to be whatever it was. Her waffling had pretty much told him the answer anyway.

"No," she murmured.

Henry placed his hand on Elizabeth's thigh. "Why didn't you say something? That's kind of a big thing."

"My experience is the guys don't like to be told that." Henry just looked at her. "You know, that it's one sided."

Henry cocked his head to the side. "I just realized what the difference is between having sex and making love." He threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her still so he could kiss her.

"What's that?" she mumbled against his lips.

"Having sex is about pleasuring myself and making love is about pleasuring you. It's a mistake that I don't plan on making again."

"You gonna put your money where your mouth is?" she gave him a small smile.

"I don't plan on having my money anywhere near where my mouth will be. You'll just have to take my word for it." Elizabeth giggled as Henry descended upon her.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Just some H/E figuring it out smut for your Monday.

Chapter 12

They fell back against the mattress, his weight forcing her to sink down into the bedding. His lips were against hers, his tongue slipped into her mouth. It was tender, and the sense of urgency that had always been present in their previous encounters was missing. Henry moved slowly and deliberately, building a slow burn. His fingers ghosted down her arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Tangling his fingers with hers, he whispered, "I don't want to ever take you for granted again. If you ever feel that way, please tell me."

"Mmm, hmm," she responded, as he moved to take her earlobe in his mouth, sucking lightly before nibbling the tender flesh. She continued to hum her approval, running her hand down his chest and abdomen. When she reached his waistband, he stopped her.

"You first. From now on." He pushed himself upright and pulled her with him, hugging her tight before untying the shirt that was wrapped around her waist and tugging her t-shirt over her head. "That's better," he murmured, placing a row of kisses along her collarbone.

Elizabeth shivered when Henry ran his hands up her spine before unhooking her bra. She wasn't sure how to process everything that was happening. Henry had never been rough with her during sex, but there had never been any messing around. It had always been hard and fast, a scenario she supposed she laid the groundwork for during their first encounter. Now, with each touch, each kiss, the flutter that started in her stomach was becoming a warmth in her center.

She tugged his button down shirt from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor next to the bed. Crossing the room, he flipped off the light, before removing his diner uniform shirt. He let it drop to the floor and returned, guiding her back down on the bed. He tugged her jeans down her legs, followed by her panties. The dim light from the lamps in the Quad filtered through her blinds taking the edge off of the darkness. He was pressing sloppy open mouthed kisses to her neck, when he suddenly pulled away and asked, "I forgot. Did you want to eat your salad?"

Elizabeth laughed, "Maybe later."

Henry grinned, "Just checking." He studied her for a moment. She was truly beautiful. Just at the moment Henry let the happiness take over, Vivian's words rang through his head. He closed his eyes and tried to rid himself of them. Elizabeth caught the slight change.

"Hey, Henry, be with me. I'm right here and I love you." She shifted underneath him and pulled his head to her so she could kiss him. "You are wanted and I am yours forever."

"Tell me what you want me to do," he said.

"Mmm," she sighed contentedly, a smile curling the corners of her mouth. Elizabeth wrapped her hand around his wrist and dragged it from its resting spot on her hip up to her breast. Sliding her hand over his, she used his fingers to tease her nipple to a peak. Henry applied pressure, pinching it slightly and the moan that escaped her lips made his jeans suddenly very uncomfortable. He distracted himself by lowering his head to the other breast and taking her into his mouth, swirling his tongue around her nipple before sucking, gently at first, then harder. Her hips pivoted into him, pressing against his erection and the breathy pants that filled his ears made it hard to focus.

Henry pressed kisses to her stomach and intended to move further down but was thwarted by the length of the bed and arrangement of furniture. His head popped up suddenly and Elizabeth tensed, "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm tall, you're tall, bed's small. Fear not. I'm resourceful," he grinned, pushing up on his arms and towering above her. He dipped down and kissed her hard, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. She squealed and arched her back, seeking his touch. Pulling away, he gave her a wicked grin, now thoroughly enjoying the thought of what he was about to do. He got up and Elizabeth shot him a confused look, but he quickly pulled her hips diagonally towards the edge of the bed and fell to his knees between her legs. He took her dangling leg and placed it over his shoulder and pushed her other leg to the side, opening her center up for full view. "It's been quite a while since I did this, so feel free to offer instruction," he mumbled as he kissed her inner thigh.

Elizabeth hummed, "I think it will be f-f-fine, oh God," she stuttered as his tongue connected with her center. What had been a steady building of pressure within her was now quickly becoming unbearable as Henry alternated his actions, licking and sucking her most intimate parts. His teeth grazed her clit and legs quivered uncontrollably. "Please," she begged. Immediately Henry slid two fingers in and curled them deep inside her, stroking a spot she didn't realize existed until her body separated from her mind. Her hips gyrated against his hand begging for more, her hands pressed flat to the bed, back arched, breathing ceased and everything went black. She rode the sensation as long as she could stand it. Suddenly it was too much and she shoved Henry's head away, falling back to the bed, her eyes unable to open. She gasped for air and felt her heart pounding in her chest. Her muscles were clenched around his fingers still deep inside her. She collapsed, exhausted.

She wasn't aware of how much time had passed, but Elizabeth felt Henry shift and pull his hand away from her and she slowly opened her eyes. He was laying next to her with the widest smile she'd ever seen him have. "That was the most incredible thing I've ever seen in my life," Henry whispered, his lips grazing her temple.

"It felt pretty incredible." She blushed. "Thank you," she said, as she scooted to right herself on the edge of the narrow bed. "Now, it's your turn." Pushing him on his back, she sat up and started to work on his jeans.

Henry squeezed her arm and she looked up to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry it took me so long to make you feel like that." Elizabeth shrugged it off, shaking her head. "No, babe, really. I want to make you happy. There are things I won't know and you're going to have to tell me. Please do not be embarrassed or worried what I might think. I want to know. I want us to be honest with each other."

He could see her smile in the lamplight before she leaned over to kiss him. Working him free from his jeans, she wrapped her hand around his length and he groaned, bucking into her. Henry attempted to roll into her, but she pushed him to the bed. "Let me be on top this time." Throwing a leg over him, she easily lined herself up and slid down his shaft, causing them both to moan loudly.

Towering over him, she used his chest as leverage, raising her hips and sliding back down. The sensation was totally different than being on the bottom, and Elizabeth was still sensitive from her previous orgasm. It felt amazing, but she couldn't get a steady rhythm going to make it go faster. "Help," she cried out, wanting more than her body was capable of providing in that moment. Henry seized her hips and thrust up into her while pulling her down.

Henry was lost in the woman above him. He couldn't even name the sensations he felt, only knowing he never wanted it to end. He was nearing his peak, focused on her muscles squeezing him as he continued to push into her. The only sounds heard were skin hitting skin, and the heavy breathing of two people trying to get enough air to sustain themselves. Suddenly, Elizabeth arched her back, crying out her release. Henry bottomed out and came hard, his orgasm pulling him up off of the bed, tightly gripping her hips. They hung on as long as they could before falling back against each other, gasping for air.

"That was-"

"Yeah," she finished, still trying to calm her breathing.

"Do you want that salad?" Henry asked, his amusement obvious.

She chuckled, rolling off the bed to fetch her t-shirt. Wiping herself off with it, she handed it to Henry, who used it and tossed it across the room into the laundry basket. "How about we have salad for breakfast?" she said, climbing back into bed, curling up in Henry's arms. "I'm too tired to eat." she murmured, already drifting off to sleep.

Henry lay there watching her sleep, occasionally leaning forward to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. In his life, he'd spent countless hours asking God why he'd been born to a mother who didn't want him, why he suffered so much at her hand, and why he'd lived when Tommy didn't. It was in this moment, Henry finally realized, his purpose had nothing to do with him. He was on this earth for Elizabeth. He was to be the man beside the woman. It was fated.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: I would like to thank every one of you that has supported me in this different take on Henry and Elizabeth. I held onto this story for a while, wondering if I would be blackballed from the fandom for suggesting that they might be less than the perfect couple. Fair warning, things will get hard again before they get easier, because that's sort of the way marriage is. There are always ups and downs. So, enjoy this chapter because you're on the upswing.

Chapter 13

August 1987

Elizabeth flopped down on her couch and looked around. She was sort of proud of herself. She had her first apartment. Classes were starting next week and she couldn't wait for Henry to get off at the diner so he could visit. Two weeks ago, Joan had come with her to look at a couple different places and they'd picked this one. Unfortunately, Henry had been away for his summer ROTC training, so he didn't get to meet Joan, and that also meant he hadn't seen the apartment or her.

She almost went to the diner, but was afraid of what might happen when they first saw each other. They hadn't seen each other since school ended in May. They both worked every weekend and they couldn't find a day that they both had off to visit. Elizabeth was seriously worried that she would break down when she saw him or maybe even do something inappropriate. She grinned at the thought. She'd missed him terribly.

Elizabeth had hoped that Henry would be able to spend the night, but she wasn't sure. He was spending the summer in Don and Christy's basement bedroom and earning his lodging by helping Don do some landscaping in their yard. She thought that they might have rules that Henry had to abide by. Spending the night out may be one of them. Not that he needed to spend the night to do what she wanted to do. She let out a little chuckle. Yeah, she missed him a lot.

With no furniture other than the couch, there wasn't much Elizabeth could do. She moved boxes to the appropriate spot in the apartment and she put the toiletries away in the medicine cabinet and shower. She only had meager kitchen supplies, but tossed the utensils into the drawer next to the sink and the bowls and plates and cups into the upper cabinets. The rest of the furniture would arrive tomorrow and she could put everything together then. Elizabeth glanced at her watch again. She had two hours until Henry got off work. She sighed and decided that she would go to the library and get a book and then just sit outside the diner and wait for Henry.

Thankfully, she had a difficult time choosing a book and it took a bit. She arrived at the diner only ten minutes ahead of time. She opted to let the car run to keep the AC going and she flipped open her book. Only ten minutes.

Henry had been antsy all day. He was excited and nervous to see Elizabeth. The last time he talked to her on the phone, she had given him her address. His plan was to head over just as soon as his shift was over. He checked the clock-six minutes.

He cleaned up his station and made sure everything was restocked. His replacement actually showed up a couple minutes early, so Henry washed his hands and headed out right on time. He breezed out the door, barely paying attention to his name being called. Hearing it again, he turned and saw her standing by her car. Of course she'd come to get him. A smile bloomed across his face and he swept her into his arms. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled her scent. She did the same. He felt her tears on his neck and he pulled back. 'Hey," he said softly, wiping the tears away.

"I'm being dumb. I just missed you so much and being close is just overwhelming. I'm sorry," she said, rubbing the remaining tears away with the back of her hand.

"Don't be sorry." He held her close. He let his lips meet hers. She could tell he was reserved, aware of their surroundings.

"Let's go home," she said, handing him the keys. "You can drive." He gave her a quizzical look. "I don't trust myself to pay attention to the road. I'm going to be looking at you."

Henry rubbed his thumb along her jaw. "It's a good thing it's a short drive."

They lay on her comforter on the bedroom floor, a sheet covering them haphazardly. They were still half clothed and their chests were pressed together, and she clung to him. "I didn't realize how much I missed you until now. My heart literally hurts over missing you," she said, placing a kiss on his lips.

"Next summer, let's figure out a way to stay together," Henry offered, feeling the same as Elizabeth.

"Definitely," she murmured, taking his bottom lip between her own. "I want to be able to do this whenever I want."

He grinned, "You just want me for my body."

"I want you for your mind." She kissed him. "And your heart," Another kiss, "And your body."

He chuckled, then became serious. He looked into her eyes "I love you, and I never want to willingly be apart from you."

"Then will you live with me?" she blurted out. Henry looked shocked. "I was going to talk to you about it later, but I feel the same. I don't want to be apart from you, and I know that we'd spend a lot of time together anyway, but being under one roof just seems right. And I bought a queen sized bed," she whispered, as if that might push the deal over the top.

"I'm not sure. That's a big step and I don't know if my scholarship requires me to live on campus. I never thought it would come up, so I never asked. I'll check into it. I agree. It makes more sense to use my room and board money on a place that I might actually be sleeping in." He kissed her again and they snuggled closer together.

November 1987

"Henry!" Fr. Matthew exclaimed when Henry entered the confessional and sat down. "It's been a while. How are things going?"

"Sorry Father. I've been extra busy this semester and my schedule has me booked up most afternoons. I actually skipped a study group today so I could make it over here." Henry shifted uneasily in the seat, his nerves getting the best of him.

"Well, I'm glad you made time, but, just so you know, you're welcome to call the rectory and make an appointment to see me so if fits in your schedule. I miss seeing you, but I don't want you to miss out on a study group because of me."

"Yes, Father, I'll try to do that in the future," Henry replied.

"But, what brings you here? It must be important." Fr. Matthew leaned forward in his seat encouraging Henry to speak.

"Well, a few months ago, Elizabeth and I moved in together." Fr. Matthew sat back in the seat. "And I know how you feel about that, so we can just skip that part of the lecture." Henry attempted to stop Fr. Matthew's moral objections immediately.

"Henry, the near occasion of sin-" the priest started.

Henry laughed. "The near occasion has left the building and it's full on sin, but I'm not confessing that because I'm not sorry and I have no intention of stopping, so we can just agree to disagree."

"Yet I'm the one that worries about your salvation," Fr. Matthew admonished.

"In a roundabout way, perhaps I'm trying to solve that problem. I came to talk about marriage." Henry squeezed his hands together in his lap, waiting for the priest's response.

"Wow! That's quite the development. Tell me about it."

"I'm going to marry Elizabeth. I'm sure of it. But, I'm worried that if I try to wait until I get all of my 'issues' worked out, it will take forever and I don't know that she wants to wait that long, or that she'll think I'm not serious if I want to wait that long."

"Have you talked about it with her? What does she say?" Fr. Matthew asked.

Henry slumped down in the chair. "I've been nervous about bringing it up. We're young. She just turned 19 a few months ago and I'm 20. We're both in school, but I love her and I want her to know it's a forever kind of love, so do you see my problem?"

Fr. Matthew shifted in his chair, putting his weight on the arm of the chair. 'How is communication going in other areas? Do you talk about other things? Are you sharing both good things and frustrations with each other?"

Henry thought for a moment. 'We do on a lot of things. But, now that you say it, I think there are things that bother her that she doesn't talk about. She doesn't want to make me upset."

'And why is that Henry? What happens if you get upset?"

Henry was uneasy. Other than Elizabeth, no one knew what he did when the pain was too overwhelming. "I, uh, hurt myself."

"How?" Concern washed across Fr. Matthew's face and Henry wondered what sort of problems he was making for himself. He figured he was in the confessional. Surely it couldn't go too far.

"It's better than it used to be. Now I usually just push myself too hard running or in the gym so I'm really sore." He shrugged in attempt to minimize his actions. "It actually works out pretty well with my ROTC requirements, so at least it's useful."

Fr. Matthew tilted his head to the side and studied the young man. "And that's the low end. What's the high end? What's the worst look like?"

Henry sighed. "I punch things like walls or doors. The harder, the better." He saw the priest's eyes narrow. "But, I haven't had to do that in several months" he added hoping that the priest would let it go.

"And Elizabeth knows all of this?" Henry nodded. "What does she think about it?"

"She doesn't like it, and we've talked about it a little bit in the past, but we don't talk about it now. She knows I'm trying." Fr. Matthew gave him an expectant look. "I try to talk about the little things that happen and often I see that they aren't really a big deal. They are unimportant, so I can let them go. Otherwise, it's just less to take on. The people I'm around now don't expect me to accept the blame for everything that happens, so there's just a lot less stuff that needs to be internalized."

"But it didn't used to be that way?" he asked.

Henry didn't know why the question made him feel the way it did. It wasn't the first time it had been asked, but suddenly he was a young boy about to take a beating because one of the eggs was cracked in the carton. "No," he said softly.

"You suffered physical abuse?" Henry nodded slightly, too embarrassed to speak. "Your father?" Fr. Matthew asked.

Henry head was down when he shook it. "No, but he never stopped her," he said quietly.

"Your mother then." Henry nodded. "That's why you never want to return to your childhood home."

"Yes. It took me a whole year longer to get out than what I planned because of her and I swore when I walked out that I wouldn't be back."

"Does Elizabeth know all of this?"

"No one knows. She told me that I needed to talk to someone about it, but I just haven't been able to do that."

"She's smart." Fr. Matthew said.

"Very," Henry agreed, finally looking up to meet the priest's gaze "But I don't want to burden her with that. She's better off not knowing."

"If you can't find someone to speak with, maybe your could write it out. Like a journal." Henry thought about that. It didn't seem like a bad idea. He'd briefly thought about going to see a shrink or something, but that would cost money, money that he didn't have. Maybe if he could just get it out, that would be enough. Fr. Matthew broke through his thoughts. "And you need to talk to her."

Henry pushed his food around on his plate, contemplating his conversation with Fr. Matthew. Elizabeth watched him with growing concern. He had seemed a little distant over the past few days and she'd tried to give him space. Now, she was second guessing the wiseness of that decision. "Henry, are you alright?" She reached across their small table and caught his pinky in hers.

"I love you," he said. His tone was serious and his gaze moreso.

"I love you too," she replied. She didn't break the eye contact. There was something he needed to say and she wanted to make sure he knew he had her full attention.

"I mean I'll love you until I die and then for eternity, Elizabeth." Lines of worry were chiseled across his forehead, his brows knitted tightly together.

Elizabeth felt her stomach tighten. "I know. Me too. Tell me what's going on."

"I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you." A confused smile crept up on her face. "But I can't yet. I still have a lot of things that I need to deal with and I know there are things you keep from me because you worry about me and we can't be together like that. I want to fix our stuff first."

"Henry, what are you trying to say?" Elizabeth couldn't understand where he was going with his line of thought and she was starting to worry.

"Are you willing to wait with me? It might take a while and I don't want you to think me not taking the next step is because I don't want to be with you because I do." Henry sighed. "I just want to be the man you deserve, and I'm not there yet."


	14. Chapter 14

AN: This chapter was probably one of the hardest chapters I've ever written. I don't necessarily hope you enjoy it, but maybe get something out of it.

Chapter 14

March 1988

"Henry! No," she screamed. Henry pulled his hand back, ready to release the pain that had become so unbearable in the last few minutes. He couldn't get away from it. His last journal entry had been so hard. He was teetering on the brink. Then Elizabeth was pushing him in ways that felt controlling. It was too much. He couldn't do it. He had to escape. He rushed out of the apartment slamming the door behind him as hard as he could. He was already halfway down the steps when he heard the pictures fall from the walls and glass shatter. Elizabeth crying sent him over the edge.

He hit the door to the building hard, running into the parking lot. Looking wildly around, he couldn't make make his mind focus. He was angry and hurting and panicked. Henry took off running as hard as he could, having no idea where he was going or when he'd return.

Elizabeth was beside herself, sobbing hysterically into the throw pillows on the couch. She was just beginning to settle herself down when there was a knock at the door. She lay stock still on the couch waiting, praying that whatever salesman it was would go away. The knock came again, "Police. Open the door."

"Oh God," she mumbled. She surveyed the room and became nauseous. The lamp was knocked sideways from the pillow thrown and the pile of books that was on the corner of the desk had fallen as Henry rushed by, and glass covered the floor near the door where two pictures had fallen when the door slammed shut. "Uh, I'll be there in just a moment." Her hands were shaking and she swallowed hard. She needed to remain calm. Elizabeth quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. She grabbed the pillow that she'd been crying on and used it to brush the glass away from the area rug to the door. "Hold on," she said, turning the knob. Elizabeth hadn't made the glass free zone quite wide enough to clear the door as she pulled it partially open. She stepped back and felt the slivers slice into her bare foot. She bit her lip and prayed that the officer didn't notice.

"Hello officer. Sorry for the wait. I was using the bathroom," she lied, knowing it was obvious that she'd been crying. "Can I help you?"

"Miss, we received a call from someone in the building about a possible domestic disturbance. I'm here to check it out. Are you okay?"

"Oh," she tried to be surprised. "I'm fine. My boyfriend and I did have a disagreement, but it was nothing. I forget how thin these walls are." She chuckled for effect. "I'll remind him when he gets back. Thank you." Elizabeth started to push the door shut.

"Miss? So he isn't here now?" the officer asked

"No. He's out." Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably, both from the officer's questions and the glass digging into her foot.

"If you need to leave, I can take you right now. There are places you can go to get away and be safe."

Elizabeth exhaled slowly while she formed her words. "Officer," she squinted to read his name on the badge clipped to his shirt pocket, "Dempsey. I appreciate the sentiment, but really it was just an argument. I'm fine, he's fine and we'll be fine when he comes back. Now, I have dinner to prepare, so if you don't need anything else, you can be on your way."

The officer nodded and pulled out his wallet, digging out a business card. "Here's the number for a shelter in case you change your mind. Call that number, no questions asked, they can be on your doorstep in 30 minutes."

Elizabeth sighed and took the card. "Unnecessary, but thanks. Have a good evening Officer Dempsey." She didn't wait for his response, pushing the door closed and locking it. She leaned against the door and let out a shuddering breath, wrapping her arms around herself to try and stop the shaking. After a couple of minutes, she thought she was okay enough to make it to the bathroom. She hobbled in and sat on the edge of the bathtub with a pair of tweezers and tried to stop shaking enough to remove the glass shards from her foot.

Everything was cleaned up quickly but Elizabeth spent the rest of the evening cleaning that which was already clean. "What if the police came back? What if she had to let them in? What if they saw her foot?" The questions kept coming and filled her mind until she couldn't take it anymore. She'd barely had a taste of anything alcoholic since the incident in the Quad last year, but she looked at the bottle of whiskey in the cabinet before pulling it out. She needed to settle her nerves and she didn't have a better way. She was concerned for Henry, who had now been gone for more than four hours. She was worried and embarrassed about what the neighbors thought of them, of her. She poured two fingers in a tumbler and put the bottle away. She didn't want to take a chance on drinking too much.

It was well after midnight when Henry returned. He stepped into a darkened apartment, thankful that Elizabeth was already in bed. He didn't know how far he'd run, but he eventually ended up at Don's house and spent quite a while talking with the older man. Henry didn't bother turning on the lights. He figured he'd take a shower and sleep on the couch and try to figure things out with Elizabeth in the morning. "I didn't know if you'd come home," she said, her voice coming from the darkness. Henry nearly jumped out of his skin.

"What the hell? You scared me. Why are you sitting here in the dark?" Henry questioned, now identifying her silhouette from across the room.

"I didn't want anyone to think anything was out of place," she said softly. "Our lights usually aren't on at 2 am. I didn't want to rouse suspicion."

"Suspicion from who?" Henry asked incredulously, his voice raising. "What's going on?"

"The neighbors. The police. You need to be quiet," she said. "People will hear." She shivered at her own mention of the police and quickly tucked her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to hold herself together.

"What happened Elizabeth?" Henry asked, rounding the end of the couch, heading toward her. She started shaking again and her breath shuddered. "Elizabeth?" Henry knelt in front of her and gently pushed away the locks of hair that had fallen in front of her face. 'Babe? What happened?" His elbow brushed the top of her foot, which was wrapped in gauze. Henry looked down and alarm spread across his features. "Elizabeth," he said sternly.

"No-no-no-no. You must b-b-be quiet." She covered his mouth with her hand. "Th-they'll c-c-come back." Between the crying and stuttering and whispering, Henry had no idea what exactly happened, but he had never seen Elizabeth act this way and it scared him.

"Come on babe. We're going to bed." He pulled her to standing and she sucked in a sharp breath when she tried to put weight on her foot. Henry scooped her up and carried her to bed. Laying her down carefully, Henry pulled the cover over her.

Elizabeth refused to let go of his hand. "Don't make me be alone. Please."

Henry's heart broke. He knew that whatever happened had hurt her deeply and he knew that he would spend a long time trying to fix it. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." He slid in beside her and held her shaking body close to his. He stroked her hair until she fell asleep. Henry stayed awake watching Elizabeth's chest rise and fall. He thought about what had transpired and became acutely aware that he couldn't keep Elizabeth shielded from his past. He'd been journaling his childhood abuse for a few months now and he knew that the emotional toll it took on him was felt by her also, even though she didn't know why.

Yesterday had been particularly difficult and then Elizabeth had pressed him on a decision to go to a social event with her when he didn't want to go, it became too much. As he lay there in the dark, he saw how dumb it all was, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn't separate himself from the emotion. Thankfully, he hadn't hit anything. He'd run until he literally was too exhausted to run anymore, then he walked to Don and Christy's house and sat with Don for a long time.

Don wasn't a flashy man. He was a man that lived a simple life. He worked hard so he could go home and be present with his family. He was smart and could've been a lawyer or doctor or held any number of other professional careers, but he purposely chose to do something simple. He supported his family and that was enough. His words to Henry weren't hard to understand. Be present. Breathe before you speak and speak from a position of love.

Henry liked the idea of being able to be present for his family. His father had always worked long hours to provide for their meager existence. Henry wanted an education so he could do something more. He was drawn to teaching. The idea of imparting knowledge and shaping minds, or being a mentor to someone who may not have good role models appealed to him very much. He had several of his own teachers that fell into that category. Henry wanted to be like them.

Henry stayed awake all night and watched over Elizabeth. When the sun finally started to rise and make its way into their bedroom, Elizabeth shifted closer to Henry. He held her until her eyes fluttered open. "You're here," she said, her voice still hoarse from crying so hard the night before.

"Yes, babe. I'm here and I'm sorry." Brushing her hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah, but I have something that I want to share with you later, alright?" Elizabeth nodded and snuggled closer for a few minutes.

She squirmed against him. "I have to go to the bathroom." She slid out of the bed and went to take a step, but the foot with the cuts was swollen and very painful. She half walk-hopped awkwardly to the bathroom and tried not to put any pressure on that foot. When she made it back, Henry motioned for her to sit and he took the bandage off revealing 3 deep cuts and a half dozen superficial ones. The three deep cuts were already showing signs of infection and Henry was positive he could still see glass in one.

"Elizabeth! Babe! Stay right there. Let me get the first aid kit." He rushed into the bathroom and returned moments later with a small box. "How did this happen?" he asked.

"I accidentally stepped in the glass from the broken frames when the door opened wider than the spot I'd cleaned." Henry wrinkled his forehead in confusion. She sighed. She could tell the story now. She was much clearer headed. "The police came and I had to answer the door."

'What? Why?" She held up her hand to stop him. She told him how she quickly brushed away the glass from the door, but when she opened it, she hadn't judged correctly and stepped in some. "But why were the police at the door to begin with?"

"One of our neighbors called in a possible domestic dispute, and the officer came to check it out." The reality of that hit Henry squarely in the chest.

"Our neighbors think I hit you. Oh my God, Elizabeth." He bailed off the bed where he was prepping the tweezers and bandages to look at Elizabeth's foot. He ran to the bathroom and Elizabeth heard him heaving into the toilet. He came back in, sweaty and pale, his fingers laced behind his head first, then covering his mouth as he paced the floor. He spoke, his voice shaking. "I really am no better. I tried to be, but I'm going to be just like her. I can't escape it."

"Henry, stop!" She reached over, half hanging off the bed to grab his shirttail. "Stop. The officer came and asked me if I was alright. I said I was fine and he left. So I think we're fine. You're fine. It was a misunderstanding." Elizabeth was amazed that she could talk as calmly about it as she was in that moment. She hoped she sounded more reassuring than she felt about what had happened. In truth, she was terrified, but feeding into Henry's near hysteria over the event wouldn't help. "It's actually a good thing. We just learned that our walls are really thin. If they heard us yelling, they've probably heard other things too." She grinned at him.

"Stop. I don't need to be thinking about that," Henry said seriously, but she could see the amusement creeping into his eyes.

"We'll do better from here on out." Henry nodded his agreement and then moved back to the bed, pulling Elizabeth's foot into his lap. Twenty minutes later, he had removed two more slivers of glass and had cleaned the cuts and rebandaged them.

"Let's get you out to the couch and you can keep your foot propped up today," he said, scooping Elizabeth up and quickly depositing her in the living room. "I'll make breakfast, then I have something I want to show you." Elizabeth nodded and watched Henry zip off to the kitchen. She could see him buzzing around making the food and it caused her to feel so conflicted. Yesterday was such a hotbed of anger and fear and today was homey and loving. She couldn't really figure out how to process it and store it away in her emotional filing cabinet.

They ate in silence, mostly just pushing the food around on the plate. "Henry." He looked up at her, and she could see the pain in his soft, brown eyes. "This isn't how I thought it would look." He dropped his head, and she was unsure whether or not she should continue.

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve this. You deserve to be with someone who can love you the way you should be loved. The police should never show up on your doorstep and scare you to death because your boyfriend is messed up and the neighbors think he beats you." Henry stood and paced in front of her. "This is exactly who I said I wasn't going to be. Maybe I really can't be anything beyond what I was born into. Maybe she was right."

Elizabeth put her plate down and pushed herself from the couch and limped to where he was standing. "No. She was wrong. You are so much more than anything you can even hope for yourself. I see your heart. I know what's inside you. Let me in. If I know, then at least I can try to help, or give you space or whatever you need. It's the not knowing and the tiptoeing around things that's hard. Let me support you."

"One day Elizabeth Adams, I swear I will give you the idyllic relationship your parents had." Henry enveloped her in his arms and held her tight.

"I'm coming to realize that things are much more complicated than I made them out to be. My memories of my parents are wonderful, but they probably aren't all that accurate, or I have selectively chosen what to remember and what to forget." Elizabeth tilted her head back to get a good look at Henry. "We're going to make it, because not making it isn't an option."

He kissed her gently. "You're too good for me," he said. Henry led her back to the couch. "I want to show you something." Before she could respond, he disappeared into their bedroom and returned shortly, holding a notebook. He placed it in her lap. "I thought I could spare you this, so I've kept it from you, but what happened yesterday makes me realize that me working through this affects you too. It's not fair that you've been dealing with the repercussions but don't know why."

"What is it?" she asked, unsure if she wanted what she held in her hand.

"Fr. Matthew suggested that I take your advice and work through the things that happened to me. I don't really have anyone that I wanted to sit down and talk about it with, so I decided to journal instead. What you have is a written account of my childhood."

"It's not going to upset you if I know this?" Elizabeth asked, holding up the notebook.

"It upsets me that it's there and that it affects our relationship. I wish with every fiber of my being that I could just push it away and start fresh with you. I tried. I wanted to leave there and leave it all behind. I was foolish to think I could do that-that the way I grew up wouldn't shape how I behaved in certain situations or how I looked at life in general." Henry sat down on the floor next to the couch and stroked Elizabeth's hand.

"Thank you for trusting me with this," she said.

"Thank you believing in me and for loving me, even when it's hard." Elizabeth tugged his head into her lap, stroked his face and combed through his hair. Henry fell asleep against her and she began reading.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: I know that last chapter was hard, and I apologize, but I really felt like it was important to give a glimpse of the highs and lows. That being said, I didn't want to get bogged down in it. When working through something as difficult and horrendous as abuse, it takes a while and no matter how hard you try, it leaks out into your other relationships. Oftentimes, those people have no idea the extent to which you are suffering. While that certainly doesn't excuse the behavior, it does provide insight as to why it happens. For me personally, the difference in leaving and staying in that kind of relationship becomes one of how hard is the person trying to change and what kind of progress are they making toward that change. Henry was perfectly aware of his flaws and desperately wanted to change, and he was changing for the better. He just wasn't there yet, and it's safe to say that he wouldn't be there for a while. All people have different tolerances and a different hard line that cannot be crossed, and the sad fact is that when you love someone, that hard line is sometimes arbitrarily moved to fit the situation because of love, fear, dependence, etc. Luckily, we know that in the end, Henry and Elizabeth turn out fine.

Chapter 15

Elizabeth closed Henry's notebook and wiped her eyes again. It had taken several hours to get through it because there were many times she thought she just couldn't go on. Ultimately, she decided that if Henry had lived it, she could at least read it, so each time, she picked the journal back up and continued reading about the horrors that had been his life, at least up to the time surrounding Tommy's death. That was the last series of entries, the ones that made him so distraught the previous day.

She looked down on her lap, where Henry's head still lay. He had slept this entire time, likely a culmination of exhaustion the day before and not sleeping all night. Elizabeth studied him. She wondered if he still carried the physical scar from when his mother threw the butcher knife at him and sliced his head open. She gingerly ran her fingers through his hair, before gently touching the shell of his ear trying to see if it was this ear that his mother pulled on so hard that the skin started to tear away from his head.

Fresh tears made new trails down her face. How could anyone do that to their child? Parents were supposed to love and protect their children. The level of mental illness this woman possessed was unfathomable. And yet, her son, who endured all of her wrath, was good and kind and worked so hard to be the man he believed could exist. He wasn't perfect, but tried to take steps in that direction, to make himself better.

Elizabeth felt conflicted. She didn't understand how she could love someone as deeply as she loved Henry and at the same time wonder if being together was right. She knew there was a moment of indecision the evening before when she held the card from the abuse shelter. It wasn't that she feared Henry would ever hurt her physically. It was that she wondered if she was good for him, and conversely, if he was good for her. Would he be better or making more progress if she wasn't in the picture? What was the constant cycle of ups and downs doing to her?

Those thoughts tumbled through her head, but then she looked down on him, sleeping in her lap and the deep ache that ripped through her at the thought of losing him forced a sob to escape her shaking body. She quickly covered her mouth and tried to still herself, but Henry started to stir. "Hey, what's wrong?" he said, his voice laced with drowsiness and then concern. "Babe?"

In that moment, all she could do was try to convey the love she had for him. Elizabeth sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Placing her hands on either side of his head, she drew their heads together. Her voice was shaky, but her words had meaning. "I know that it seems daunting sometimes, but you'll make it. I know you will. You'll break away and be the man you want to be. I have faith in you. I love you so much and I'm so proud of you."

The last thing Henry remembered was the gut wrenching terror he felt when he'd handed her his journal. What would she think? Would she be too overwhelmed? He'd only spoken of his childhood in general terms. She knew he'd been abused, but not the manner in which it happened. Once she knew, would she think it was too much? That it was too much for anyone to overcome? He knew she had to have the opportunity to know, but allowing her in was much more difficult than he thought it would be. Yet, he gave it to her anyway, knowing that the only chance they had to really make it was if she knew it all.

Of course, Elizabeth had been kind and thanked him for trusting her. But would she really be thanking him? She laid his head in her lap and ran her fingers through his hair. Exhaustion took over as he finally relaxed under her hand. He fell into a deep sleep.

He roused when her shaking body woke him, he heard the sob and the sinking feeling took over and his stomach rolled. Before he could even open his eyes, he'd pictured the look of devastation and disgust on her face and he thought that would be the end. But, when Elizabeth spoke, she told him that he could be the man he wanted to be, that she loved him and that she was proud of him.

It was that profession that broke him. In his nearly 21 years of life, no one had ever been proud of him. Henry threaded his arms behind Elizabeth's back and hugged her tight, his head smashed against her stomach.

Elizabeth held him until his tears wet her shirt. She pushed him back to see his face. "What's wrong?"

"I just," he sighed. "I was so lost. How did I end up finding you? I just don't know. I can't even comprehend how happy you make me. I didn't even know it was possible to feel like this." Pushing himself forward on his arms, he kissed her gently. "You taught me what love is, and I love you so deeply that I can't imagine a time when I didn't love you."

Elizabeth closed the distance between them and returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. She deepened the kiss and scooted down the couch taking Henry with her. Once she was more reclined, Henry shifted around and pressed his upper body against her and threw his leg up on the couch between hers. "We're too tall to do this on the couch unless we're sitting." she said, her level of arousal equal to the breathiness of her voice.

"Right," he said, suddenly rolling her on top of him as they landed on the floor. She giggled but was quickly cut off by his tongue sliding into her mouth. Elizabeth gave the coffee table a push before rolling them again, so Henry was on top. He grinned at her before tugging her t-shirt up exposing her stomach. He squirmed down her torso, planting open mouthed kisses on her neck, and lace covered breasts. Her abdominal muscles involuntarily twitched under his touch, and it excited him. Elizabeth grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted her shoulders off the floor allowing her to pull the garment off and toss it to the side. Henry wasted no time unhooking the front clasp of her bra and exposing her breasts. He kissed his way up the valley landing on her mouth once more. He massaged her breast and swallowed her moans while his tongue flitted around, teasing hers.

Elizabeth reached for Henry's waist, untucking his shirt and slipping her hands beneath the cotton fabric. "May I?" she asked, now understanding the reason she'd never seen him bare-chested before. He looked pained, but he nodded. She tugged his shirt over his head and ran her hands down his chest. She saw the scars on his torso, her fingers settling on one that was a rectangle with a line across half of it. In spite of herself, Elizabeth murmured, "Belt buckle." She'd read how his mother had held the buckle in the flame on the stovetop before pressing it to his chest. He stared down at her hand, before wrapping his fingers around hers and pulling them away. He laughed ruefully. "When you grow up in the McCord house, you never bring home a letter from the principal. Especially if that letter says you won the spelling bee. She said that I needed to know my place. That I should never try to be more than what I am."

Elizabeth thought back to her childhood and her many small accomplishments-how she would come home from school, giddy because of an A on a test or sticker on a paper highlighting a job well done. Her parents had always praised her and encouraged her. She wondered what it would look like if they hadn't done that. Yet, here was Henry, who was cruelly punished for doing well. In many ways, she just couldn't wrap her mind around it. "I'm sorry. It's not supposed to be like that."

She moved her hands around to his ass and squeezed, pulling him in. His hips forcefully pushed down into hers, the bulge in his jeans very noticeable when pressed to her center, eliciting a groan from both of them.

Their lips were moving as one, separating only briefly to take in more air, before joining again. Henry had slipped his forearms under her shoulder blades, cradling her and pressing their chests together. She slid her arms up his back he nails digging in as though she were clinging to him. Henry continued to rock his pelvis into hers, moving her toward an orgasm at a high rate of speed. "I need you," she whispered and Henry immediately pushed up off of her. She hurriedly pulled her knees up and wiggled her pants down her thighs letting Henry yank them the rest of the way off before ridding himself of his own jeans.

As he hovered over her, Henry let one hand trail up Elizabeth's thigh, she stopped him, "I'll come without it." Henry pressed down on her and his tongue plunged into her mouth. Letting go, he whispered, "But you'll come twice with it," and his hand landed squarely on her clit, his fingers applying pressure followed by quick, tight circles. It only took a couple minutes before he slipped two fingers inside and stroked her vigorously. What started as humming, became moaning and when her orgasm hit, she went silent. Her back arched up off the floor, pushing him up as well, her breathing stopped and she hung on to the sensation as long as she could before collapsing, her muscles rhymically squeezing his fingers. "That will never get old," he said, pulling his hand from between her legs before lining himself up and pushing into her.

Elizabeth hadn't fully recovered from the first orgasm and the pace he set was rocketing her back again. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and she hung on for the ride, giving into the sensations. Just before he went over the edge, his hand snaked down and stroked her to orgasm a second time. Her muscles clamped down, squeezing him until he spilled into her. They collapsed together on the floor, thoroughly sated.

"This is the beginning of the new us," she whispered as they lay tangled together, more in love than either ever thought possible.

May 1990

Elizabeth sat on the end of the bed and stared out the window. Moving boxes now lined the walls and the day when she'd moved in this apartment two and a half years ago seemed like yesterday and another lifetime ago all wrapped up in one. Her cap and gown hung from the top edge of the closet door along with Henry's. Just the sight of them made her shudder. She wasn't sure how to deal with all of the changes.

Henry was helping her move to Washington DC, where she was starting her employment with the CIA and entering grad school in the fall. He was only there for a couple weeks and was then off to basic training with the Marines, where he was going to be gone for the majority of the next four years. There was a feeling of dread that she just couldn't get past. They had worked so hard to get to a place where they were good by themselves and as a couple.

The first three years, they had a lot of good times and some devastating lows, but as Henry worked through his past and Elizabeth learned to trust, they finally built a solid foundation that they had come to rely on. Now they had willingly made the choice to be apart. They would end up being apart longer than they had been together. That was what made Elizabeth sick to her stomach. They were too new. They would be under too much pressure. They would be apart too long. What would she do if Henry found someone else or if something happened to him? Unanswered questions bounced around her head like pinballs. Elizabeth was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice Henry standing in the doorway.

Henry watched her and could see the pain etched on her face. He didn't know how to make it better. He'd assured her that they would be fine and four years would go by quickly, but he was lying and she knew it. He was as scared as she was. The only thing he knew to do was to love her as much as he could when he could. He moved to her and crawled across the end of the bed to sit behind her, wrapping her tightly in his arms. "We'll be okay. Do you know why?" She shook her head. "Because I'll always show up for you. Always."

She tilted her head back so she could kiss him. "I'll never give up on us." They stayed wrapped up with each other for the next few minutes, not wanting it to end, but eventually, Elizabeth broke the spell. "Let's go graduate McCord." She stood and Henry allowed Elizabeth to pull him to his feet. They were headed off to make their own lives and both prayed that eventually they would be able to return to what they had in this moment.


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Thanks to everyone following this story. I really appreciate it.

Chapter 16

June 1992

Patrick McCord lounged back in the chair at the break room table and let out a heavy sigh. His lunch period was half over and he'd have to get back out on the floor soon. Working in a steel mill was grueling work, but it was all that he'd known, starting when he turned 15 years old. That was back in the day before the unions got the workplace more regulated and made it so you had to be 18 before going out on the floor to do the more dangerous work. He'd been lucky to get the job when he did. It had become much more difficult after he got on.

Of course, when he thought back to his own youth, his mind wandered to his son. He scrubbed his hand roughly over his face trying to push the thoughts away, to no avail. Henry was 19 the last time Patrick saw him. It was August. Patrick had pulled his beat up Chevy truck in front of the house as Henry came barreling out the front door. He dropped a couple bags to the porch and punched the wooden column supporting the roof over the porch. Henry hit it with such force that Patrick heard the wood splinter from inside the truck. His son threw a second punch before grabbing his bags and taking off down the steps. By the time Henry was at the sidewalk, Patrick was standing at the front of the truck. Their eyes met. Henry said nothing and turned, walking up the street. Patrick watched him until he was out of sight. That was almost six years ago now.

Patrick stood to go back to work, but on his way out the door, his eyes fell on the newspaper laying on the table. It was a local story of a young man, Thad Harris, who had started a not for profit organization for veterans of Desert Storm. But, it wasn't the story that caught Patrick's eye. It was the picture. Pictured, was the young man, front and center in the middle of a group of his Marine buddies. Second from the left was none other than Henry. Patrick ripped the front page from the paper and folded it, tucking it into his shirt pocket.

That evening, Patrick sat in his truck in front of his home and studied the picture. Henry was a much younger version of himself and he was smiling widely as if joking with the other guys in the picture. Patrick hadn't seen Henry smile much. That saddened him. He knew Henry's life was hard. Vivian was a hard person to be around. Patrick knew that all too well. He sighed and reached over and grabbed the bottle wrapped in brown paper from the passenger seat before heading inside.

Vivian McCord scowled at her husband when he walked in the door. "What the hell have you been doing? You been sitting out there in the truck for 20 minutes."

"I was just looking at a newspaper article. What do you want to eat?" Patrick asked.

Vivian's eyes narrowed as she studied him. "You don't read the paper. What are you up to?"

"I sometimes read the paper. It's not like I can't read. What difference does it make to you anyway?" He took a step backwards and tried to look nonchalant. "There's tuna. You want a sandwich?"

"I don't want a fucking tuna sandwich. You'd think you'd go out and get a decent job to provide real food for us. But you continue to stay at that Goddamn steel mill like it's some sort of lifeline. Where's my whiskey?"

He set the bottle on the table near her chair. "The steel mill pays more than most any job around. I'm lucky to have it," Patrick said disappearing into the kitchen, wondering why he was even bothering to answer her.

They sat in silence eating their tuna sandwiches while Vivian took swigs straight from the fifth of whiskey. "Do you ever wonder about Henry?" Patrick asked, knowing that this was dangerous territory he was embarking on.

"He was an arrogant fuck. Always thinking he was better than us," she mused. "Yeah. I wonder how hard he got slapped to the ground at his fancy college. That is, if he ever really made it."

"He was in the paper. That's what I was looking at," Patrick said.

"He get arrested or something?" Vivian asked, cooly.

"No." Patrick didn't try to hide his sadness at the situation. "The article was about some kid from Wexford going to Desert Storm and starting a program for veterans when he came back. They printed a picture from when the kid was overseas and Henry was in it."

"You're a fucking idiot. Henry's too stupid to do anything with the military. They'd use him for target practice." Vivian scoffed. Patrick hung his head. It was no wonder Henry never came back. Patrick had always hoped that Henry would end up missing them, or at least him and make an effort to reach out.

"Are you going to let me see it or what?" Vivian barked. Reluctantly, Patrick dug into his shirt pocket and looked at it one final time before handing it over. "It's just a damn picture not the fucking Holy Grail," she spat, snatching it from him. She studied it for a moment, before crumpling it up. Patrick flinched. "Stop being such a sentimental fuck. Henry didn't love us. He was only here until he could get away. He used us."

"He was a just a kid being a kid. And Henry was a good kid. He never caused any problems." Patrick glanced over at Vivian just in time to catch the whiskey bottle coming his way. Before he could move, the bottom of the bottle connected with his temple.

Blinding pain ripped through his head. His view of the room in front of him vanished, replaced by white. Patrick squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around his head in hopes of fending off any further blows. As fast as the white had come, black seeped in around the edges. Patrick fought against it. He knew that if he lost consciousness, she would do worse. Pulling himself out of the chair, he shuffled toward his room, the black closing in fast. He stepped inside, locked the door, and crumpled to the floor.

March 1993

Patrick sat in the back of the union meeting. Most of the information was unimportant, but they always offered a decent meal and the company paid employees who went. If you didn't work and you didn't go, you missed the pay. He would be a fool to miss a meal and have to work through, so Patrick made every meeting.

There was always some sort of educational component to the meeting and this afternoon was no exception. The young man looked familiar and when he introduced himself as Thad Harris and went on to talk about his program for Desert Storm veterans, Patrick was enthralled and immediately started planning how he could ask about Henry. After the meeting broke, Patrick made his way to the front of the room. Several younger guys were asking questions and the older man waited his turn.

Patrick extended his hand to the young man. "Hello. I'm Patrick Mc-"

"McCord. You have to be a relation of Henry. You look just like him. It's uncanny," Thad said.

Patrick tried to throw out an off handed chuckle and not seem too forward "Yes. We are related. Family genes and all that I guess. I haven't seen Henry in quite a while. Do you know what he's up to?"

"He's still enlisted as far as I know. I did my four years and got out, but Prophet was on an ROTC scholarship, so he's in for longer."

"Prophet?" Patrick asked, suddenly a little too aware that he might be asking questions that might make the young man wonder what his motives were, but Thad seemed not to notice.

"His call sign. He flew F/A-18 Hornets with me. His call sign is Prophet because he's big on religion-always quoting theologians and scripture. We used to give him a lot of grief, but he's a real good guy. Happily married too." Thad looked at him curiously.

"That's good to know. I'll share that with my wife. I think she'll be happy to hear the update." With that, he faded back into the crowd.

Patrick finished his workday feeling lighter than he had in most of his adult life. His son was a fighter pilot who quoted scripture, a real good guy. Just the thought brought tears to his eyes. Happily married. As handsome as Henry was, surely he'd landed a beautiful wife. He frowned at his own thought. That wasn't Henry. Sure, his wife may be pretty, but he thought Henry would chose a wife based on her heart, not her looks.

He walked into the house that night in a good mood. It wasn't that he was going to to take credit for any of Henry's successes, but it sounded like Henry had made done well for himself and that made him proud. He set the bottle on the table for Vivian, otherwise not specifically acknowledging her, but headed into the kitchen to make something for them to eat.

He was about halfway through making some sort of hamburger box dinner when he realized that his wife had yet to chastise him for anything. There was a part of him that was glad, but the bigger part wondered what was wrong. Stepping back to the living room, he stood before her and alarm set in. Her skin was eerily off color and her eyes squeezed shut, her lips pursed tight. She sat rigid in the chair and didn't draw in a breath "What's wrong?" he asked.

She didn't move for along time, suddenly crumpling into the chair. "It's a gallbladder attack or something you asshole. I could die and you'd have no idea what the fuck is going on." Beads of perspiration formed at her hairline, and she drew in shallow breaths.

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" Patrick asked.

"I ain't going to no damned hospital to have a bunch of arrogant assholes tell me what I do and don't need to do." Patrick shrugged and went back to the kitchen to finish dinner. As long as she was combative like that, the hospital probably didn't want her anyway.

January 1995

Patrick stood by the grave as the minister gave a final blessing. He shook the man's hand and walked away. Patrick made his way back to his truck and pointed it in the direction of home. He was full of sorrow, but not really because his wife was dead, and that caused him to be sad in a different way.

Patrick was really lamenting what could have been. He loved Vivian and she loved him, at least in the beginning. He tried to pinpoint the moment she'd changed. Patrick decided it was a series of heartbreaking events and she just couldn't find her way back. They married young, when she was 17 and he, 18. Henry came pretty quickly and she lost her waitressing job. She very much enjoyed her job but they'd decided that it was better for her to stay home while Henry was little. Then came the back to back miscarriages and the stillbirth when Henry was only 3. She never recovered after that. Patrick guessed it was some sort of depression, but the violent streak made itself known once she started drinking.

Patrick sighed. He never considered leaving her. She was broken. What would she do if he didn't provide for her? And, there was Henry. If they divorced, any judge would've given Vivian custody. He may never even get to see him again. He knew that Vivian was rough on Henry, but he thought it would be worse if he was out of the picture, so he just tried to shield Henry as much as possible. Looking back on it now, he wondered if he should've done things differently. He didn't really know what he would do though. There wouldn't have been many options for him as a single father. That was unheard of, and he still loved Vivian, or the Vivian he'd married.

Patrick came home each evening for a week and stared at the TV, grieving, wallowing, whatever he was choosing to call it, but by the weekend, he'd had enough. Patrick started cleaning out Vivian's room. Most of the things were in disrepair and he just threw things in a trash bag, but under the bed was a shoe box and going through it nearly destroyed him. There was a stack of letters from elementary and middle school. Most were from the counselor or nurse indicating that Henry had suspicious injuries and they requested a follow up. Patrick flipped through them-gash on his scalp, circular burns on his chest that appeared to be cigarette burns, welts on his back indicative of being hit with a belt, and various bruises. Tears welled up in Patrick's eyes and he wondered how he could be so blind. Henry sometimes seemed like an accident prone kid, but he was a boy. Boys fell and broke their arms. They ran into things and needed stitches. He'd explained it all away so easily, but now reading what these school officials were obviously hinting at, Patrick couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. He had thought that keeping him close when he was younger would be enough, but he was so wrong.

At the bottom of the box was a letter addressed to Henry. It was from the University of Virginia. Patrick pulled back the half torn flap and removed the letter. It was dated February 1985, congratulating him on his acceptance to the college and acknowledging that he would receive a full ride ROTC scholarship. Patrick did some quick math in his head. Henry didn't leave until August of 86. Thad had said he was on ROTC scholarship, so he must have gone to college, but it wasn't in 85. The envelope still had something in it, so Patrick turned his attention back and pulled the remaining contents. It was cash, $1,400. Patrick was very confused, but placed the money back in the envelope and returned everything to the shoebox and stuck it back under the bed.

March 1995

Since Vivian's death, Patrick had taken to being outside of the house more often. For more than 25 years, Patrick had mostly made the trek from home to work and back home again. He didn't veer from that routine, but now that she wasn't there to give him reason to come straight home, Patrick spent some time wandering the city. Mostly he walked the parks and downtown area, looking in store windows or sitting with a cup of coffee and watching the people go by.

It was a fluke that he ended up in the bookstore. Patrick didn't think he'd ever purchased a book in his life. When he was a kid, he checked out books from the library, but in his adult life, he only read the newspaper occasionally or the stray magazine in the doctor's office. But, when the rain started pouring down, Patrick sought shelter in a small bookstore in the downtown business district. As he wandered around, he happened upon a book that piqued his interest. Thomas Aquinas: a Man of Our Times. He gasped as his gaze fell to the bottom of the book. Henry McCord. Patrick immediately flipped the book over and then turned to the back book flap to read the author notes. It was most certainly Henry and this was his second book. Former Marine Corps pilot turned religious scholar, Henry was a professor at UVA and was married to Elizabeth and they were expecting their first child. Patrick immediately carried the book to the front and plopped some cash on the counter. Oblivious to the weather, Patrick rushed back out into the storm and headed for home. He had a book to read.

April 1995

Patrick stepped into the foreman's office at work. He had worked at the mill over 30 years and had only missed 4 days of work-one each when his kids were born, one when he sat with Vivian in the hospital and the day of the funeral. He wasn't sure why this unnerved him so much. He was a loyal employee, other guys took off all of the time. There was no reason he couldn't put in a request. "Pat, what can I do for you?"

"Sir, I'd like to fill out the paperwork to have some time off, sir," he bit his lip, annoyed at himself that he was being so insecure about the whole thing.

"I'm sure we can do that. How much time are you looking at and I'll start the paperwork?" the foreman asked.

"Two weeks sir. I have some personal business I need to take care of," Patrick said, softly.

"Alright then. Is that effective immediately?"

"I was thinking this coming Monday through the following Friday," Patrick rubbed his hands together nervously.

"If you'll sign right here on the leave form, I'll get it taken care of for you." Patrick leaned over and signed the form and waited to be dismissed. "I hope that this leave is fruitful for you. I know it's been difficult since Viv died."

Patrick nodded, "Thank you sir." He left the office and thought, "He has no idea." Patrick mumbled as he headed back down to the floor to finish out the week. He had renewed energy. Saturday morning, Patrick was headed to Virginia to find Henry.


	17. Chapter 17

AN: Thank you to all of the people who continue to read and review. I know it takes time and effort to review. I appreciate it very much.

Chapter 17

May 1994

Elizabeth sat in the parking lot at Langley. She was almost an hour early, but she wasn't quite ready to go inside and get to work. She and Henry were at odds. Again. That seemed to be the rule more than the exception as of late and she wondered how they were going to get past this. He had been back off and on during his years with the Marines and they always managed to reconnect, but now that he was back with her full-time, it was not nearly as rosy.

In the years, they were apart, they had grown up a lot. Both made meaningful friends and learned to operate separate from each other. It was good and needed, but now, it was hard. They had different ways of coping with stress and different ways of communicating and as much as Elizabeth didn't want to admit it, they were just different now. Her hand rested on the small bump resting on her lap, their baby growing inside her. It was then that tears formed. It was one thing for her and Henry to struggle, but now they were throwing a baby into the mix.

Walking into the house that evening, she found Henry pouring over a stack of papers that needed grading. "Can you take a break?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Henry looked up at Elizabeth. He loved her so much and yet he felt so much distance between them. It wasn't animosity, but more of like unfamiliarity and that was scary. "Yeah, what's up?" he asked, sitting back in his chair.

"Nothing really," she said. "I was just hoping to spend some time together and talk." She walked toward the desk and extended her hand. Henry reached out and took it, letting her lead him to the couch. They sat together curled up against each other.

"You have nothing to be worried about," he said.

"It's not that I'm worried so much as I miss us." She turned, her eyes piercing him. "I spent so much time longing for us to be together and now we are and it doesn't feel right. We are different. We don't talk like we used to. We aren't sharing."

Henry took Elizabeth's hand. "There are a lot of things that I can't talk about and things that happened that I'm just not ready to talk about."

"My brain knows that but my heart doesn't understand." Elizabeth mumbled. Henry pulled her closer.

"We'll get there. It will just take a little time." Henry pressed a kiss to her head.

Over the next few months, they did grow closer. They weren't the same lovestruck kids they had been, but still had the same commitment to each other.

November 1994

They struggled when their daughter, Stephanie, affectionately nicknamed Stevie, was born. Elizabeth missed her parents, and although her Aunt Joan made the effort to be available, it just wasn't the same. Henry, on the other hand was desperately trying to forge a new path. He didn't want to parent the way he had been parented. He was terrified of making a mistake, of doing something that would harm Stevie. They were both flailing and sleep deprived and miserable.

Stevie was only a month old when Henry woke to hear her crying. Elizabeth wasn't in bed, so he assumed she was getting Stevie, but the baby's wails only increased in intensity. After a couple minutes, Henry left the warmth of the bed and trekked downstairs, tying the drawstring on his shorts as he went. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and was heartbroken at the sight.

Stevie was laying on a blanket on the floor, kicking her tiny sleepered feet, screaming shrilly. Elizabeth sat on the edge of the couch nearby, holding her face in her hands, sobbing. "Babe?" he asked softly, not wanting to startle her, but when she was unable to hear him over their infant's wails, he approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She jumped, suddenly crying harder. Henry frantically looked back and forth, trying to decide which of his girls he should try to calm first. He decided that Elizabeth would be the easiest to reason with, so he took her hand and pulled her up from the couch and around the corner to the kitchen and hugged her tight. "What's going on?"

"I can't do this Henry. I don't know how to be a mom. I can't make her stop crying. I don't know what she needs." Elizabeth fell against Henry continuing to cry.

"Okay. We're going to figure this out together. But you have to calm down. Take a deep breath." Henry bent down pressing his cheek to Elizabeth's. "We're going to be just fine. If the kids from The Blue Lagoon can figure out how to take care of a baby, surely we can."

In spite of herself, Elizabeth laughed through her tears. "Right." She took a deep breath and smiled at Henry. "I love you." Henry squeezed her hand and disappeared. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She heard Henry pick up Stevie and start talking to her, but the baby's screaming only intensified.

Elizabeth made her way back to the living room and watched as Henry carefully laid her down on the couch and unsnapped her sleeper. He felt the diaper. "Not wet." Henry started to fasten it back, but Elizabeth stopped him.

"Take it all the way off. Maybe it's itchy or something." Henry shrugged and pulled her arms and feet out of the garment. He immediately picked Stevie up and held her to his bare chest trying to keep her warm. "Oh shit! Henry, look!" Elizabeth barely gave Henry a chance to shift Stevie around before she grabbed her foot. Her big toe was almost purple. "What the?" she asked.

Henry quickly passed the baby to Elizabeth and shuffled them to the light for closer inspection. "It looks like she has string or maybe a hair wrapped around her toe."

"It's hair. How did that happen?" Elizabeth asked.

"I have no idea, but how are we going to get it off?" Stevie was still screaming and beat red. Elizabeth felt her anxiety and insecurity climbing each second. "It's swelling around the hair. Let's soak her foot in cool water. Maybe it will reduce the swelling enough to see if we can get better access to cut it."

Henry headed for the stairs. "I'll get the clippers." Elizabeth nodded and headed into the kitchen with their wailing daughter.

She held her close, murmuring, "It's alright baby girl. We're going to fix it. Shh!" Elizabeth set a bowl under the faucet and turned the water to cold and waited for it to fill. She submerged Stevie's foot in the water only a few seconds before Henry appeared in the doorway. He stepped in behind Elizabeth and kissed her shoulder then gently rubbed Stevie's head.

After a couple minutes, Elizabeth pulled Stevie's foot out, drying it off. She held Stevie's foot under the bright light over the sink and Henry used a pair of tweezers to catch a piece of the hair and pull it up, quickly snipping it with the clippers. He unwound the hair and massaged her tiny toe trying to get the blood recirculating. Within moments, Stevie's cries changed and she turned her head, open mouthed into Elizabeth's chest. Quickly, Elizabeth opened her robe to nurse Stevie.

Henry led them to the couch, where he sat at one end with his propped leg up and pulled her to sit against him, her back to his chest. Reaching around, he threw a quilt over them all. Half a hour later, Stevie was sleeping soundly against Elizabeth's chest, and Elizabeth was fighting sleep herself. She rose and Henry followed, taking Stevie and carefully redressing her. He carried her upstairs and placed her in the bassinet near their bed. Turning, he smiled at Elizabeth standing in the doorway. "That was something," he commented. She nodded her agreement. "You know, when we are working together, there is nothing that can stop us."

"So it seems Henry. So it seems." She pulled up on her toes to allow her lips to graze his. Immediately Henry held her to his body and kissed her fully. "Lets go to bed Henry." He tugged her toward the bed and pulled the covers away, allowing her to shed her robe before falling into the bed.

He scooted in behind her, her bare back against his chest. She felt his lips curve into a smile as his lips ghosted her neck. "What?" she asked, knowing he could hear the amusement in her voice.

"I didn't realize that breastfeeding would give me all of these fringe benefits," he said, placing his lips more firmly now.

She smirked, "What would those be?"

"Mostly that I get to snuggle you when you're topless all of the time now," he said, his hand snaking up her torso to cup a breast.

"Just don't squeeze too much or it may get messy." She turned to look over her shoulder and grin at him.

"Ew, now why did you have to go and say that?" Henry feigned disgust.

"Sorry, I have an unreal fixation with my boobs now that someone is literally attached to them half of the day." Elizabeth laughed, and then grew serious. "You are a wonderful father Henry. Stevie is lucky to have you."

Elizabeth felt the shudder behind her and squirmed around to roll over to face Henry. His eyes were filled with tears. "Everyday I pray that I do right by her and by you." Elizabeth ran her thumb along his jawbone.

"You will Henry, and she will love you more than any little girl could love a dad. You are a good man Henry."

April 1995

Patrick arrived home from work on Friday evening and set about getting ready for his trip. His bags were packed, his route mapped out, cash tucked away in his wallet. Almost everything he needed was ready to go. Patrick sat down in his chair and let his eyes fall on the empty chair that Vivan had always occupied. He took a ragged breath. He'd made so many mistakes, although he wasn't sure how much he could do differently. There were places you could go now, resources for people. Patrick didn't think that kind of stuff was available back then, or if it was, he didn't know about it. But, then again, he didn't have any idea how horribly Vivian treated Henry. He thought he was taking the brunt of it for Henry, and he was so wrong.

Tears welled up in his eyes. He knew the chances of Henry even being willing to see him at this point weren't good. Henry hadn't made any kind of effort to contact him up to this point. It wasn't likely he would. Sitting there, Patrick almost talked himself out of going, but he held just a small sliver of hope that maybe him showing up and explaining may mend a bridge, one that he desperately wanted to cross.

Waking early the next morning, Patrick loaded the suitcase in his truck, filled it with gas and set out on his first journey out of the city in over 30 years. He was headed to Charlottesville, Virginia. Arriving early afternoon, Patrick pulled into a diner to have lunch. It was just a couple miles from campus and he could collect his thoughts. He was sure that Henry wouldn't be around today, but he wanted to walk around campus and kind of familiarize himself with the area and get a motel for the week.

Stepping into the diner, the waitress did a double take, staring at him intently before coming to her senses and speaking, "Welcome to Oscar's. How many in your party sir?"

"Just one. Thanks," Patrick said, a little curious about the girl's expression. He was seated, and she disappeared into the kitchen. Within moments, he noticed a couple of the kitchen staff appear at the door and give him the once over. It was making him nervous.

The waitress returned with water and took his order. She loitered at the table for just a moment. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but you remind me of someone I know. You wouldn't happen to be related to Henry McCord, would you?"

Patrick was a little taken aback. Charlottesville wasn't a large town, but he figured it was large enough that people wouldn't know others by name, especially someone who wasn't from the area. "Henry's my son," Patrick said.

A wide smile bloomed on the waitress's face. "Hi. I'm Sam. Henry worked here all through college. Even though he's a big time professor now, he still comes by every couple weeks for lunch to say hi."

"That's nice," Patrick murmured, finding it interesting that even though he had a fully paid scholarship to school he still worked. "I'm just visiting. We haven't seen each other in a while." The waitress smiled and disappeared, returning later with his meal. Patrick ate quietly and took notice of the older man, around his age or a little older, that came to the door several times, just to peer out at him. Patrick shook that thought from his head. He was just nervous and probably imagining it.

He had finished his meal and was sipping the last of his coffee when the man stepped out of the kitchen. He had taken his apron off and walked in a straight line to Patrick's table. He placed his hand on the back of the chair opposite Patrick. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Sure," Patrick said. He tried to keep his tone light, but he knew that the deep creases in his forehead gave him away. The man smiled, but it wasn't a genuine smile. He was tense as well.

Reaching across the table, he said, "My name's Don Reynolds. Sam says you're Henry's father and that you're in town to see him." Patrick shook the man's hand.

"My name's Patrick and yes, it's been a while. I thought I would check in and see how he's getting along." Patrick was a little confused about Don's line of questioning.

"Mr. McCord, Henry got a job here right when he came to town to start school. I've known him a long time, and we still talk frequently. He's been through a lot with adjusting to college life, having a serious relationship and keeping it together while he was deployed, coming back and now getting reacquainted with his wife and bringing up a new baby." Don studied the man carefully and Patrick felt squeamish under his gaze.

"What exactly are you trying to say Mr. Reynolds?" Patrick leaned forward in his chair. He wasn't going to be bullied by some second rate diner cook. He came with a purpose and he had plans to make that happen.

Don didn't flinch. "I'm saying that Henry has worked very hard to build a nice, stable life for himself. He has a good education, a good job, and a wonderful family." He paused, letting that sink in for a moment. "I just want to make sure your intentions are honest before you show up and upend his life, because that's what you are going to do."

"I don't know what you mean," Patrick responded.

Don leaned forward so now the two men were inches apart, staring each other down. "If you came here to tear him down, I would think twice. No one who knows him will allow it."

"I-I-That's not why I came." Don raised his eyebrows at the man. Patrick continued, pulling back a bit, but not far. "I always wondered why he left without saying goodbye and never came back. I've learned some things recently that cleared that up for me. I just want to apologize. I don't really expect that he'll want any kind of relationship, but I'd just like to know that I opened the door. Just in case. Ya know?" Patrick was unexpectedly overwhelmed with emotion. It was the first time he'd ever said any of that out loud.

Don seemed to remain unphased. "Tread carefully Mr. McCord." He rose from the table and walked back to the kitchen. Patrick was left sitting at the table unsure of the handful of things he thought he was sure of. He laid cash on the table and nodded to Sam as he left, noting the worried look on the young woman's face as well. Patrick wondered if this had been a terrible idea.


	18. Chapter 18

AN: We're in the final stretch. Thank you to all of those who have written reviews. I appreciate it very much. Whenever this finally ends, there are several one shots and two more multi-chapters in the wings waiting to see the light of day. I hope you enjoy this next installment.

Chapter 18

Patrick spent six days at the UVA campus and Charlottesville wandering around, immersing himself in Henry's life. He spent time in the library and even managed to find one of Henry's classes and stood outside the door, listening to his son lecture. Patrick had never been so proud in all his life. He left before the class was over. He didn't want to catch Henry off guard at work.

Thursday afternoon, he sat in his truck and pondered what Don had told him. Showing up would upend Henry's life. Was that what he really wanted to do? It wasn't. He'd come to apologize, but catching the glimpses of his son's life made him so incredibly happy and jealous at the same time. He wasn't sure he could just step away without making contact. It was a coincidence that Henry pulled out of the parking lot just ahead of where Patrick was parked. Before Patrick could think about the consequences of his actions, he started the truck and set about following Henry home.

Henry had been tense all week. Don called him immediately after his shift at the diner on Saturday to tell him that his father was in Charlottesville inquiring about him. Henry couldn't figure it out. Why would he suddenly show up after all these years and how would he know to come to Charlottesville?

Of course, Elizabeth sensed something was wrong, but Henry didn't want to cause her to worry, so he said nothing. He only went to campus on Tuesdays and Thursdays anyway. His father would probably give up and go home. It wasn't like he lived locally or anything. Henry pulled out of the parking lot Thursday afternoon after his office hours, thinking that his hours were posted on his door. If Patrick had really wanted to see him, he would have. He pushed the thought out of his mind, failing to notice the beat up Chevy truck with Pennsylvania plates that pulled out several cars behind him.

Patrick wondered what kind of wild goose chase Henry was dragging him on as he drove farther and farther away from Charlottesville. They drove almost 2 hours with Patrick following several cars behind Henry. Henry exited the highway in Centreville and wove his way through several city streets, finally turning into the driveway of a light blue 2-story colonial home with a 2 car detached garage and box hedges lining the front of the house.

Patrick parked two houses down and watched as Henry got out of the car and walked to the front of the house and pulled the mail from the box before entering. Ten minutes later, a middle aged woman walked out and got into the car that was parked on the street. Patrick was just about to leave and try to figure out his next move when the garage door opened and Henry came out wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, having changed from his dress slacks and blazer. The stroller he pushed is what caused Patrick to be unable to breathe. Once Henry turned onto the sidewalk, he took off jogging. Patrick closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. From outward appearances, Henry had the life Patrick always wanted. Patrick waited until Henry had turned the corner and was down the block before starting the truck and pulling away, headed back to Charlottesville to spend the night at the motel and decide what he was going to do.

Patrick leaned against the headboard staring blankly at the TV, unaware of what was even on. His mind played the scenes of his week on a loop: sitting with Don, the gold nameplate next to Henry's office, listening to his son teach, the picture perfect house and most importantly, the baby girl riding in the stroller.

Patrick had considered Don's warning, and thought at one point that he might be satisfied just knowing that Henry was doing okay. Now, there was a yearning that he had never known before. He desperately wanted to be part of his son's life. He wanted to have the loving experience that was cut short in his own family. Patrick knew all too well that the chances of Henry welcoming him with open arms weren't good, and he couldn't even begin to think how he would handle it if, or when, he was turned away. Somehow the desire to try was greater than the fear of rejection.

Patrick switched off the TV and scooted down under the covers. Tomorrow he would make a plan to see his son.

MSMSMSMSMSMS

Elizabeth had tried to give Henry plenty of space all week. He seemed tense. Usually she could attribute these moods to things going on at school. Midterms, prepping for a new course, research for a book, something. But finals were three weeks away, and there wasn't anything else that she knew of, other than Don called on Saturday and the tension seemed to start around then.

Thursday evening when she got home from work, Henry was in the kitchen singing. She could hear the clatter of dishes and the smell wafting from the kitchen was heavenly. When she hit the doorway, Stevie immediately spotted her and reached her chubby arms out to be picked up from her high chair. Elizabeth removed the tray from the chair and pulled Stevie from it, placing the baby on her hip, and turned to Henry, who was waiting. "Hi there, beautiful," he said, pulling Elizabeth into an embrace. He buried his head in her neck and kissed her softly there before moving to her lips. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too." She ran her hand up his back between his shoulder blades, keeping him close. "Are you having a better day?"

"Yeah, sorry. I just had some things on my mind and the situation seems to have cleared itself up." Henry stepped away to stir the contents of the large pot on the stove.

"Anything you want to talk about?" she offered.

"Nah, really It turned out to be nothing. I'm good." He leaned over and kissed her. "Sorry if I worried you. We're having fettuccine alfredo." Stevie, who had been content during this exchange, only tugging at Elizabeth's blouse, was now starting to fuss.

"We'll be back in a few and I'll be anxiously awaiting my pasta," she grinned.

Henry watched her disappear around the corner with Stevie and sighed. He wished he was a little better at hiding his emotions. He chided himself. It was a catch 22. He wasn't purposely trying to hide things from Elizabeth. He wanted to share things with her, and he did. But, he felt guilty when she took on things that he thought were his to deal with. She didn't need to be concerned with his father. In fact, she didn't even know that much about him. Outside of the handful of stories she'd heard, he never talked about him. Now that Patrick had been lurking around, Henry had given his father more thought in the last week than he had since he left home.

There was a lot of blame and confusion involved. Henry had tried to sort it out, but he didn't get very far. His father had always just seemed so far removed from his situation. Now as an adult with a wife and a child, he just didn't understand how his father functioned at all. There was a part of him that wanted to know why, but the bigger part, and the rational part, wanted to never see him again, and just forge his own way.

Henry shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. He needed to be present in the now. Elizabeth and Stevie were his family and he was going to put all of his energy into taking care of them.

Saturday morning, Stevie woke early and Henry brought her into bed so Elizabeth could nurse her.. They both fell back asleep, but Henry was feeling on edge. He decided to run a few miles to settle down.

An hour later, Elizabeth woke and carefully edged out of bed, trying her hardest not to move Stevie, lest she wake. It was futile, Stevie remained sleeping only a few more minutes. Elizabeth was thankful that she was at least able to go to the bathroom and wash her face in peace. She threw on some sweats and pulled her hair into a ponytail before scooping Stevie up, taking her for a new diaper and clothes as well. They entered the kitchen and Elizabeth put Stevie in her highchair and tossed a handful of Cheerios out before pouring herself a cup of coffee. She read Henry's note and checked the clock. He'd probably be gone another hour or so. Elizabeth fed Stevie a few bites of oatmeal and applesauce before calling breakfast complete and moved to the living room so she could play. Elizabeth had a stack of reports that she needed to read and Stevie seemed content to sit on the floor and push some blocks around, so they settled in to have a quiet Saturday morning.

Elizabeth's head snapped up when the doorbell rang. "Probably some neighbor kid selling something for a fundraiser," she muttered, as she scooped Stevie up and passed by the sofa table to grab her wallet from her purse.

She opened the door, her eyes downcast expecting to see a pint-sized salesman peddling candy bars, popcorn or magazine subscriptions. Quickly seeing that it wasn't a child, her eyes shot up and met the man's gaze. All of the oxygen was sucked from her in that moment and she couldn't draw in a breath or even make a sound. She was staring at a man who looked exactly like Henry only twenty years his senior. It could only be one person and she had no idea what she was supposed to do, or feel, or how she should respond.

He extended his hand toward her. "Hi. I'm Patrick McCord. I was looking for Henry. Is he home?" Patrick said, aware that Henry's wife knew exactly who he was and was completely taken aback by his presence. She reached out and shook the man's hand.

"Um, actually he's not here right now. He should be back in half an hour or so. Would you like to come back then?" The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could think about them, and even then she was unsure what the right course of action would be. "Wait. That wasn't what I should've said. Would you like to come in and wait for him?"

Patrick looked as unsure as Elizabeth as to whether he was welcome in their home or not. But, Elizabeth opened the door fully and stepped out of the way. "I'm sorry to show up unannounced. I didn't have a phone number to call ahead. But, I don't know how that would've been received anyway," he said.

"I don't really know that I can answer that question for you, but I guess we're all going to find out." She gestured toward the living room. "Please, have a seat." She sat Stevie back in the middle of the floor and quickly bent over to gather the file folders off the couch. "Sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting anyone today. Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Water? Scotch?"

"It's 9am. Seems a bit early for scotch," Patrick commented.

Elizabeth straightened and looked the man in the eye. "Depends on your point of view," she said. He grinned. The degree to which he looked like Henry was a little unnerving to her. "Please," she said, gesturing to the couch, as she placed the folders on the end table. He sat and moved his attention to the baby on the floor.

Elizabeth watched Patrick watch his granddaughter and she was filled with an odd mix of concern and sadness. She couldn't see that Patrick showing up on their doorstep would bring about anything good, but she felt deep sadness for the man who stared longingly at his granddaughter, obviously wondering if this was the only time he would ever see her. "What's her name?" he asked.

"Stephanie Ann. We call her Stevie. She's almost 7 months old."

"She's beautiful, as are you, Elizabeth. Henry has a nice life here. I didn't come to mess that up."

"How did you know my name?" Elizabeth asked, intrigued by this man's soft spoken mannerisms. Henry hadn't said too much about his father, other than feeling like his father's unwillingness, or inability, to stop his mother was condoning the abuse. She was pretty good at reading people and she didn't see a man in front of her that would ever condone the abuse that Henry endured. The entire situation was puzzling.

"Book jacket," he replied. "Henry lives with his wife, Elizabeth, and they are expecting their first child."

"You read his book?" she asked.

"Both of them," Patrick replied. "I stumbled on the second one by chance, but once I finished it, I went and bought the first one." He turned his attention back to Stevie. "She's smart. She can already stack the blocks. Smart like her dad."

Elizabeth leaned forward to peer over the edge of the coffee table. Stevie, indeed, had three blocks stacked one on top of the other. Elizabeth smiled. The back door opened, and Elizabeth excused herself. She met Henry as he was flying through the kitchen. "Are you okay? Where's Stevie?" Henry had a panicked look that she hadn't seen in years.

"We're fine, but your dad is here. He wants to talk to you. I didn't know what to tell him "

Henry shook his head. "That makes two of us." Tension radiated off on him.

"How about you go up and shower and I'll entertain him for a while longer. You can collect your thoughts." She reached up on her tip toes and kissed him. "I don't know that it matters, but he said he's not here to mess up your life."

Henry looked toward the doorway, where he could now hear his father speaking to his daughter. "It's a little late for that."


	19. Chapter 19

AN: I felt bad about leaving the last chapter unresolved, so I decided not to make you wait too long. :)

Chapter 19

Elizabeth returned to the living room with a glass of water and set it down in front of Patrick. "Henry was all sweaty from his run. He's going to take a quick shower and he'll be down in just a minute."

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments before Patrick spoke. "I was just wondering-do you think it would be okay if I sat down and played with Stephanie, I mean Stevie?"

Elizabeth felt a great deal of compassion for this man, that he was so far removed from his son's life that he needed to ask if he could sit next to his granddaughter. Her brain fully understood that there were many circumstances that probably necessitated him not being around, but her heart didn't get it. "Of course," she said, and Patrick immediately slid off onto the floor and sat next to Stevie and started stacking the blocks in front of her. She knocked them down and giggled, causing Patrick to laugh. As with all things baby, they repeated the action over and over until Stevie was in a fit of giggles.

Henry walked down the front staircase wearing a t-shirt and shorts. He tensed when he saw his father sitting with Stevie playing a game that she was obviously enjoying, her laughter filling the room. His father, a man that Henry never thought had the ability to show any emotion was laying on the floor smiling and laughing. Henry felt so completely unnerved. Elizabeth, sensing Henry presence, shifted her gaze to him.

With Patrick engrossed in playing with Stevie, Elizabeth rose and moved to stand at the bottom of the stairs, holding her hand out to Henry. He descended the final three steps and took her hand allowing her to pull him close. "Let me know what you need from me. I have no idea what he's going to say, but I don't think he came all this way to stir up trouble. If he wanted to do that, he would've come before now."

Henry swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump that had taken residence there since the moment he saw the old Chevy truck parked in front of his house. This was his worst nightmare. His past had shown up on his doorstep. Memories flashed through his mind one right after the other-Vivian's cutting remarks with Patrick standing in the background passively, the box he brought home and put on the porch, muttering a comment about staying out in the cold, the hand on his shoulder when Tommy died.

Henry was pulled back to the present by Elizabeth's hand rubbing his back. Henry couldn't reconcile the two versions of his father. The passive, stoic father of his youth was now laughing at Stevie, who was having a ball. He let out a ragged breath, drawing Patrick's attention. Patrick immediately pushed himself to his feet, which caused Stevie to fuss, having lost her playmate.

Patrick's eyes shifted wildy around. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make her cry. Henry recognized the feeling that went with that look, and Elizabeth scrambled to diffuse the situation.

She quickly swooped in to scoop Stevie off the floor. "Patrick, she's fine. It's naptime. She just temporarily forgot she was tired because she was having such a good time. I'm going to put her down now." Elizabeth looked between Patrick and Henry. "In case you need to leave before I get back, it was nice to have met you." She put her hand on Patrick's arm and squeezed it before shifting Stevie in his direction. "Would you like to tell your granddaughter goodbye?"

Patrick made no move, but looked to Henry. Henry looked to Elizabeth who smiled, and then he nodded his head slightly. She handed Stevie to Patrick and he pulled her close against his chest and patted the baby's back. "It's nice to meet you Miss Stephanie. I hope we get to play together again." Patrick kissed the top of her head and handed her back to Elizabeth. "It was nice to meet you too, Elizabeth." He studied her a moment. "Thank you," he said.

Elizabeth gave the older man a quizzical look, but said nothing, and moved to Henry to allow him to give his daughter a hug and kiss. Their eyes met and she gave him a reassuring smile. "Do you want me to come back down?" Henry stared back at her blankly. Elizabeth leaned in. "I'll listen and see," she whispered, "Otherwise, call for me." He nodded. Elizabeth retreated up the stairs with Stevie.

Both men watched Elizabeth go up the stairs and then stood uncomfortably for a moment as they realized that Elizabeth and Stevie had provided a buffer. Now that they were gone the two men spent a few minutes silent as each tried to figure out what to say to the other. Finally, Henry gestured to the chair. "Do you want to sit?' Patrick sat and Henry sat at the end of the couch, putting about four feet between them. Henry pushed the glass of ice water to the side of the table closest to Patrick.

"You have a good life Henry."

"I do. Why are you here?" he asked tersely, and immediately backpedaled. "Wow, sorry. Old habits come right back." Henry took a deep breath. "I'm confused as to why you decided to show up now after all these years." He spoke calmly.

"She died. In January," Patrick answered. "I discovered things. Things I didn't know or was too blind to see."

Henry slumped back on the couch. Thoughts were bouncing around in his head. He wasn't sure what to address first. "Mom died?"

Patrick nodded. "Liver failure. She'd been sick for a long time, but she wouldn't go to the doctor. Truthfully, I wouldn't have wanted to burden a doctor with dealing with her anyway. By the time she was bad enough that she couldn't fight me to take her, she only lasted a few weeks."

Henry covered his face with his hand. He wasn't sure what to do with this information. He never planned on knowing this. He thought that he could live the rest of his life not knowing. At some point, he could assume that his parents had passed, but it was going to be far removed from him. Except now it was staring him in the face, and there was a range of emotions, some of which infuriated Henry. There was a large part of him that hoped she went straight to Hell to live there for eternity. But there was also the young boy that was so very confused about her behavior and he was devastated by the news. "I shouldn't care, but there's a part of me that is actually sad. That pisses me off."

"She loved you," Patrick said, staring down at his hands. Henry scoffed at the idea. "No really. Before she got all messed up, you were her world."

"She always hated me, and I never knew what I did to make her hate me so much. And you stood by and you watched and you did nothing." Henry's voice was forceful, not loud, but commanding.

"Yeah," Patrick agreed, "I didn't do enough. But she wasn't always how you remember her. When you were little, she was good. When your brother died, the Vivian I knew left and she never came back."

"Brother?" Henry asked, stunned.

"When you were about two and a half, she got pregnant again. We were happy because after you were born, she miscarried twice, but this baby seemed to stick. It was about 2 weeks before the baby was supposed to come that your mom couldn't feel the baby move. The baby had died. He got the umbilical cord around his ankle and was deprived of oxygen and he essentially suffocated himself. She dealt with the miscarriages before that alright, I thought, but she never made it back after Shane died." He sighed. "For a while she was just depressed, but then she started drinking and it got so much worse."

Patrick's head flew up, making eye contact with his son. "Henry. I didn't know. Looking back on it now, I guess I should've known what she was doing, but at the time I didn't see it. I thought she was just hateful and short tempered. I didn't know that she was physically abusive."

"How could you not know?" Henry accused.

Patrick shook his head. "I've spent the last several months asking myself that. How could I not see? I thought by being there I was helping, somehow protecting you, taking the brunt of her rage so you didn't have to." Dropping his head in his hands, his voice cracked as he continued. "And then I found out everything I thought was wrong." Patrick looked up to meet Henry's eyes. "I-I'm just so sorry, and I wanted to tell you that. That's why I came, but then I got here and I saw this life you've built and-and-I should go."

Patrick abruptly stood, his eyes filled with tears. "I won't bother you anymore." Henry stood and opened his mouth to speak, but Patrick took a step toward him and put his hands on his shoulders. "I hope you are proud of what you have accomplished, because you make me very proud." Patrick stepped away and moved toward the door. Opening it, he stepped through but turned around. "Elizabeth is a good person and Stevie is so very special." Patrick was on the verge on breaking down. "I pray you do a better job protecting them than I did you and your mother." He turned back and rushed down the sidewalk to his truck and immediately pulled away.

Patrick made it as far as he could, to a gas station a couple miles down the road. He pulled in and once parked, laid his head on the steering wheel and cried. 30 years of hardships and loss came pouring out. Over an hour passed before Patrick thought he was able to drive. He pointed his truck toward Charlottesville. He was going to collect his belongings and go home.

Elizabeth was standing at the top of the stairs and heard their parting words. Her heart broke listening to Patrick and she was fearful about how Henry would be when she got to the bottom. Henry stood stoically in the middle of the living room, his back to the door. "Hey," she said, slipping her arm around his waist. "How can I help?"

Henry's thoughts were scrambled. His father just upset the delicate balance that he had been so careful to maintain. There was so much pain, pain that he thought he dealt with years ago and yet, here it was again. He wanted to hit something. Elizabeth sensed it right away. "Henry. Look at me Henry." She cupped his face and pulled him down to look at her. "Don't let this pull you down. You're here. We're here together. I love you, and your daughter loves you. You can acknowledge what you've been through, but you aren't defined by that."

Her eyes bored into his and he needed to feel grounded, connected to his life now. Elizabeth understood that, she needed him with her, with their daughter, not stuck in the past. Moving her hand to the nape of his neck, she pulled him down to her lips. Barely touching, she murmured, "Be with me Henry." Elizabeth only had to dart her tongue out, catching his lip and he took over, converting his pain into passion.

He devoured her, as if he would never be able to be with her again. Henry pulled her shirt over her head and shoved her sweats down her thighs and took her straight to the floor. She kicked them off as he pushed his shorts and boxers down. Letting her legs fall open, he lay down on her, his weight squeezing the air from her lungs, his hardness against her panties. His tongue was in her mouth, stealing her breath and she was getting dizzy. He moved to her neck allowing her to inhale deeply. She dug her fingers into his back when his teeth raked across her collarbone.

This was all for him, and Elizabeth was more than aware and willing to let him take whatever he needed. Henry pulled the cup of her bra down, exposing her breast. His tongue swirled around the nipple and he nipped at her causing her to squeal and push her hips into his. He pulled away and hovered over her. Opening her eyes, Elizabeth studied her husband. "I will always be here," she said, reaching up, rubbing her thumb over his lips, before pulling him down on top of her again.

Henry pushed Elizabeth's panties to the side and entered her in one strong push and set a hard and face pace, pounding into her, but it still wasn't enough. He pushed up off of her and knelt between her legs, shifting them to remove her panties. Taking one leg, he put it over his shoulder and she immediately wrapped the other around his back. He grabbed her by the hips and straightened, lifting them off the floor, pushing hard into her while pulling her towards him, chasing his release. Elizabeth was along for the ride. She let him do as he wished, the pleasure building with each hard thrust. Sensing he was close, she reached down to touch herself. He went first, burying himself deep inside, exploding in her. He continued to push into her until she stiffened and her leg locked around him, pinning him against her.

When she finally relaxed and Henry pulled out and lowered her to the floor. Elizabeth grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him back down on top of her. "I love you and I don't ever want you to forget that." She kissed him softly.

"Thank you," he mumbled against her lips. "I love you too." He shifted to her side. "I think I need to get out and think about some things. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I'll be right here waiting. Whatever you decide, we'll do it together." He kissed her cheek before pulling himself to stand. He tugged up his shorts and offered her a hand. Picking up her clothes, she trailed off to the bathroom to clean up and he headed out to take his second run of the day.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: I hope you enjoy this. There is only one more chapter to go. Thanks to all who have followed this story.

Chapter 20

Weeks passed and Elizabeth knew that Henry was struggling. He was restless and rarely spent a full night with her, tossing and turning before finally dragging himself out of bed to mindlessly watch TV or run. Elizabeth wondered how many miles he'd put in over the past several weeks.

Elizabeth was surprised to find Henry standing in Stevie's doorway at 2am. She had just finished nursing her and was watching her sleep, just enjoying the cuddle time. Her eyes fell on Henry. "Do you mind if we talk?" he asked.

"Of course we can talk. Can you-?" she started, but Henry already moved to scoop the sleeping baby from her arms. Elizabeth stood, pulling her robe around her, tying the belt. She watched as Henry carefully placed Stevie back in her crib, gently tucking the blanket around her.

Coming up behind him, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist. "You are doing a great job. I know you worry, but you shouldn't. You love her so much."

"Promise me that if I ever become toxic or dangerous that you will leave me and take the kids with you." His voice was low and soft, but there was a desperation that she hadn't heard in a long time.

"Henry," she said and sighed.

He pulled her hands apart and turned to face her. "No Elizabeth, really. I need to know that if I ever get messed up like my mom that you will leave and take our children away. Spare them?"

For a split second, she thought about commenting on his use of the word children, but seeing his look, she thought better of it. "Henry, you don't need to worry-"

He interrupted her. "Right. I don't want to worry, so please, Elizabeth, promise me."

She hugged him. "I promise, but it's something that you never have to worry about." Seeing him, she knew there was more. "Come on. Let's go."

They settled into bed, facing each other. "I've decided that I need to go back," Henry said.

She nodded, acknowledging that she knew it was coming. "When?" she asked.

"Maybe Friday morning since I don't have class and then I don't need to be back until Monday night." Henry looked at Elizabeth and tried to gauge her reaction.

"I'll clear it with Conrad in the morning. It won't be a problem.*

"You don't need to go," he said. "That's a long trip for Stevie."

She leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "There's no way I'm letting you go alone. You might be able to talk me into staying at the hotel when you go to see your father, but that is the extent of it." Henry looked anxious. "Hey, remember, we're in this together. You never have to deal with things alone, and I don't want you to. Please, let me in Henry. Let me be there with you-for you."

It was mid-afternoon Friday when they pulled into the hotel on the outskirts of Pittsburgh. The trip had taken a bit longer as they found Stevie didn't much like her carseat longer than about three hours at a time. So, they stopped to eat and let Stevie swing at the park until she was tired enough she would sleep the rest of the way. After checking in, they decided to go out and walk along the river, giving Stevie a much needed opportunity to move around. There was a nice park and she was able to get down and play in the sand and slide down the kiddie slide.

They walked side by side, Henry pushing the stroller and Elizabeth's arm linked in his. "Do you have a plan yet?"

"Not really. Dad won't be off work until 5 and then it will be another 45 minutes to an hour to get to the house. And I don't know if he's even coming straight home. We might wait until tomorrow."

"Can you call him tonight? Maybe ask if you can come over?" Elizabeth offered.

Henry shook his head. "No warnings. I'm going to just show up and get it done and over with. Let's eat first and then I'll show you the wonderfulness that was my childhood." Henry didn't bother to veil the disgust that he held for his childhood home. As promised, after dinner, Henry drove her through the neighborhood-his elementary school, high school, the park where Tommy died and they finally made the turn onto what Elizabeth could only guess was his street. Henry's body stiffened, his jaw clenched, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Up ahead, Elizabeth saw the beat up Chevy pickup that had been parked in front of her house weeks before. Henry pulled in behind it and put the car in park.

Elizabeth surveyed the house. It was a 2 story bungalow that had probably been very quaint back in the day. Now the off-white paint was peeling, the yard needed to be mowed, the bushes in the front were overgrown and one of the front windows was covered with a piece of plywood. "Welcome to hell," Henry muttered.

Elizabeth pried his hand off the steering wheel and held it tight. "I'm here no matter what happens. You're still my husband and Stevie's Dad and we both need you. I don't want you to forget who you are now when you go in there." Elizabeth gestured toward the house. Henry nodded almost undetectably. She shifted, opening the door and Henry looked alarmed.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going in with you," Elizabeth stated matter of factly.

"No. You're not." Henry's voice was strained and he was trying hard not to become upset. "You said I could go alone."

"And, I've kind of stepped off of that." She could feel the increase in Henry's heart rate where she still had hold of his wrist. "Can you listen to me for a minute?" She waited for him to give her his attention. "When you walk in that door, you are going to be right back in the middle of every demon you've ever had to fight. I don't want you to face that alone. I want to be there to support you and make sure you damn well know where you belong. I'm not letting you fall in that hole. I get that you need answers and this is how you find them, but you aren't going to to sacrifice your current life to try and reconcile your old one."

Henry studied Elizabeth. He saw only love and concern in her eyes. She knew every bad thing that had ever happened to him. She was trying to insulate him from that. She didn't know what would happen, but above all, she didn't want him to lose what he'd worked so hard to achieve. Finally he nodded. Elizabeth kissed his hand and turned to open the door. Henry pulled her back. "I love you so much," he whispered, kissing her.

They got out of the car and Elizabeth unbuckled Stevie and shifted the baby on her hip before slipping her hand into Henry's and heading up the sidewalk. Henry knocked on the door and took a step back. "I swore when I left that I would never return," he murmured. Elizabeth squeezed his hand. When no one answered, Henry knocked a second time. They heard faint shuffling and the door opened and there stood Patrick.

Several weeks before, Patrick left Charlottesville with a broken heart. He hadn't expected anything different, but that didn't lessen the utter despair he felt in the situation. Patrick had been raised in a loving home, although things were never easy. He had several siblings and once his father passed, he spent most of his time working to help his mother make ends meet, as did his other brothers and sisters. One by one, they grew up and left, leaving him with just his mom. She died when he was 19, just after Henry was born. He had been heartbroken, but had taken refuge in Vivian.

In the days after seeing Henry, Patrick wandered aimlessly. He always felt like he didn't do enough to help Vivian and now he knew that Henry felt the same way. For the next week he was off from work, Patrick sat in his chair and stared at the wall. He wondered why he had any reason to live, but he couldn't fathom killing himself. So, like with so many things in Patrick's life, he just set it accepted his fate and went on doing what needed to be done. The next Monday, he showed back up at work and didn't speak of how he spent his time off. He went to work, came home, sat in his chair and then went to bed, eventually drifting off and waking early the next morning to do the same thing.

It had been a few weeks and Patrick was back fully back to his old life. In the dark of night, he mourned the loss of his son, but it was bittersweet. He was fiercely proud of Henry's accomplishments, both personally and professionally. He decided that knowledge would have to be enough.

Patrick was tired after a long week at the mill and decided to forego a real meal and just fixed himself a bowl of cereal for dinner. He just sat down to complete his evening ritual of staring at the TV when there was a knock at the door. He thought about ignoring it, but after the second knock, he decided that person wasn't going to to give up.

He opened the door and stood in dumbfounded silence at the sight of Henry, Elizabeth and Stevie standing on his porch. He wasn't sure how much time could have elapsed. It seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds. "Hi Dad," Henry said. "Do you think you would want some company?"

"Oh, uh, yes, of course. Come in." Patrick stepped back and pulled the door open. He followed then and stepped around, flipping on the couple of lamps in the room. "I'm sorry about how dark it is in here. The neighbor kids sent a baseball flying through the window earlier this week. I was going to fix it tomorrow. Here. Have a seat." He pointed to the couch.

Patrick stepped back and took in the three of them sitting on the couch. He was suddenly overwhelmed and tears pricked his eyes. "I didn't expect to ever see you again," he said. "I'm glad you came."

"I've just been doing a lot of thinking and I have questions," Henry answered. He didn't want to lead his father on. He still didn't think he wanted an ongoing relationship with his father, but he supposed it had something to do with how things went.

"Okay," Patrick said, nodding slowly as if he hoped he would be able to answer whatever questions came his way. "Can I get you some water, or I can fix a pot of coffee?" he offered.

"Actually, a cup of coffee sounds nice-as long as it's not too much trouble," Elizabeth said. Henry had her hand in a vise like grip. He needed some time, and she hoped the amount of time it took to brew a pot of coffee would be enough for him to get his bearings.

Patrick disappeared into the kitchen and Elizabeth murmured, "How are you doing?"

"It's so much harder than I thought it would be. Everywhere I look, there are memories, and each is worse than the last." Henry closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands. Elizabeth flexed her fingers before running them over his back. Stevie squirmed in her arms and started to babble. Henry reached over and plucked Stevie from Elizabeth's lap and held her close, inhaling her scent before holding her up in the air and making her giggle. They both laughed. Elizabeth let out the breath she'd been holding. Henry just needed reminding of where he belonged.

Patrick returned with two cups of coffee and set them on the end table nearest Henry. He looked at Stevie and smiled. Elizabeth could sense that he wanted to reach out for her, but instead he took a step back and sat down. They looked at each other in a strained silence.

"Stevie started pulling up on the coffee table last week. It won't be long until she's walking." Elizabeth threw out in hopes that something noncommittal would break the ice. They chatted for a few minutes about how she was meeting all of the milestones ahead of time. Stevie struggled to get off Henry's lap and when he set her on the floor, she immediately crawled over to Patrick and used his pant leg to pull herself to standing. Elizabeth chuckled. "Stevie certainly likes you Patrick," she said. Patrick gave her a look that was a combination of uncertainty and fear. The look wasn't missed by either Elizabeth or Henry.

Henry studied his father. "You told me that you thought you were taking the brunt of Mom's rage. You thought that because she was abusive to you too." Patrick clenched his jaw and turned his head away. Henry pressed. "You thought that if she was hurting you, she wasn't hurting me."

"It's obvious I was mistaken." He stared down at Stevie standing, still holding onto his pant leg.

Henry stood and moved to the window, blocking what little natural light was in the room. "I don't understand why you didn't leave."

"And do what?" Patrick stood, scooping Stevie up and handing her to Elizabeth before turning toward Henry. "Leave the woman that I loved with my whole being, who was broken? Was I going to divorce her? Do you know how many fathers got custody of their kids? I'll tell you. None. It didn't matter what the mother was like. Mothers always got the kids and then what? I just leave you with her? I thought I was protecting you." Patrick's voice rose with each statement, until he was almost yelling.

"But you weren't," Henry spat, turning to face him.

"I know." Patrick's knees buckled and he landed on the edge of the chair. He dropped his head and it was silent except for Stevie's babbling.

"How did you figure it out? I'm sure there was no deathbed confession asking for forgiveness," Henry said, his voice full of disdain.

Patrick shook his head, "No. No deathbed confession. I don't think she even knew what she was doing most of the time. When I cleaned her room after she died, I found a box of letters." Henry gave him a confused look. "Hold on," he said and disappeared down the hallway.

Seconds later, he emerged and handed Henry a shoe box. Henry sat down next to Elizabeth and opened the box. He looked at letter after letter highlighting suspicious injuries he had.

Patrick watched Henry as he pulled each letter out of the envelope, reading it quickly, but he was more fascinated by Elizabeth's reactions. She started with her hand on his knee, moving to his shoulder a couple letters in and by the time he reached the bottom of the stack, she had her arm wrapped around his back, her cheek against his shoulder. She seemed sad, but not shocked and that surprised him. "You know?" he asked.

Elizabeth looked up and seeing Patrick looking at her, she nodded, "Yeah. I know it all." Her attention was turned back to Henry when he sighed loudly and held up the envelope from UVA.

He opened the envelope and his eyes went wide when he saw the money inside. He pulled it out and counted it. "She didn't even need the money she just took it to keep me from going." Both Elizabeth and Patrick gave him an odd look. "I was accepted to UVA my senior year and I'd been saving money for two years so I could get there and pay to get myself set up and the week before I was supposed to leave, the money I'd hidden was gone. She denied knowing what I was talking about. It took me another whole year of working full time to save enough money to go. I rented a locker at the bus station and kept my money there so she couldn't steal it again. The day I was supposed to leave, she figured out what I was doing and told me every way in which I would fail and what a disappointment I was and every other hateful thing she could come up with. I stormed out of the house."

"And hit the column on the porch before you walked away with no plans of ever returning," Patrick said, tears in his eyes. "Every night for almost ten years I watched you walk away in my dreams. I always woke up wondering how long it would take you to come back. It took finding this box to realize that you had no intention of ever coming back."

"So you came to find me," Henry said.

"Guilt is a powerful force. And you just looked like you had a good life. I wanted to make sure."

"How did you find out where I was? I mean a college acceptance letter from years ago doesn't mean that's where I would still be." Henry questioned.

"The book jacket," Elizabeth said and Patrick nodded in agreement.

"I came upon your book accidentally, and I read them both. I like Augustine better than Aquinas." Patrick shrugged and continued. "But the flap in the back of the book said that you were a religious studies professor at UVA, so I decided that I would just take a peek. You know, to see if you were really okay. But then I got there and I couldn't stop myself. I just wanted a little bit more and before I could talk myself out of it, I was following you home. Then, I was totally satisfied until I saw you with Stevie and there was just something there. Something that I knew I should walk away from. I just couldn't make myself do it though. I needed to tell you how proud I was, how proud I am, of you. Then I ended up on your doorstep." Patrick stopped and thought for a minute. "Not really any of my business, but why do you live so far away from campus? That's like a two hour commute."

"Elizabeth can't be more than 30 minutes away from her job, which is in DC. I've tailored my schedule, so that I only have two days on campus and I can work from home on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It saves on daycare too, because we just have someone come in on those two days and I can be home with Stevie the other days," Henry said.

Elizabeth saw the smile creep across Patrick's face. "And it's nice for me too because I usually work longer days and Henry brings me lunch and I can see Stevie on most of those days he's at home. Langley is only 20 minutes from home."

"Langley? Like the Air Force Base? Are you military?" Patrick asked.

"I'm an analyst for the CIA," Elizabeth replied. Patrick's eyes went wide. "It sounds more glamorous than it is. I do a lot of reading transcripts of conversations and listening to recordings and we try to keep ahead of the bad guys." Patrick nodded. There was some more small talk and then a lull in the conversation. Henry made eye contact with Patrick.

"What is it that you want from me?" he suddenly asked, catching both Elizabeth and Patrick off guard.

"What I want and what I'm going to get are two very different things," Patrick said, his voice laced with sadness, "But that's okay. I'm reaping what I've sewn." Henry looked at him expectantly. "I want it all. I want Stevie to grow up knowing me and to be involved in your life. I don't know that you'll allow that to happen and even though that hurts, I get it and I wouldn't blame you."

"It's a lot to deal with and I don't know what my answer is and I don't know that it will always be the same. I need time." Patrick nodded, very willing to accept that answer, acknowledging that it was more than he thought he'd ever have a couple hours ago.

Elizabeth abruptly stood and set Stevie in Patrick's lap. "I think Henry and I are going for a short walk. We'll be back in a few minutes." She took the step back and held out her hand to Henry and he allowed her to help pull him to his feet.

They were out on the porch when Henry asked, "What's this all about?"

She shrugged. "I just thought you could use a few minutes to process and think about anything else you wanted to ask. And, I thought your dad would enjoy a few minutes of one on one time with Stevie. She seems to really like him."

Henry agreed. "She does." They walked down the street in silence and Elizabeth waited for Henry to speak. Finally, he said, "I just never understood how he could be there and not be there at the same time. He very rarely said anything against her, but the handful of times I remember him speaking out, it was something about me-about me being outside in the cold, about me not being at fault for Tommy's death. I think I was maybe eight or nine and he said something about me being smart. She shot him a glare and I watched him shrink back. I still don't see how he didn't know she was abusive to me, but maybe he was kind of wrapped up in his own thing too."

"And there's a lot of be said for seeing what you want to see. I know that all too well." She slipped her hand into his. "Did you get the answers you wanted?"

"I'm not sure what I was looking for. There was a part of me that hoped before she died that she was sorry. But that was asking for too much. My brain knew that, but I think there will always be the little boy who just didn't understand why he was so hated. He just wants a reason."

"It sounds like she suffered from an undiagnosed mental illness. And of course it was made worse by the alcoholism."

"And then there's that. That's scary. Under the right circumstances will I fall to the same fate?" The look Henry gave her was urgent, pleading.

"I don't think that will happen. You've been through a lot of trauma. I'm sure if you were predispositioned to some sort of mental illness, it would've surfaced by now." Elizabeth stopped them and turned she could look him in the eye. "If I ever thought you were struggling with something beyond your control, I would have you thrown in some kind of therapy or something immediately. I wouldn't sit on it and hope that it got better." She gave him a small smile. "I promise." Henry squeezed her hand and they walked back up the walk to collect Stevie and say their goodbyes.


	21. Chapter 21

AN: This is it. I spent a long time toying with the idea for this story. Would anyone be willing to accept a less than perfect Henry McCord? How many men (and women) are out there who have seemingly insurmountable issues to deal? Could the love of the right person right the wrongs of the past? How many people are willing to be that person for someone else? These are all things I thought about, and to a much lesser degree than portrayed in this story, have lived in my own life. I thank everyone who has dutifully read this story, and especially those who took time to review. It was very special to hear from you. Enjoy the last chapter and know that there will be more (and a lot of it is way too angsty).

Chapter 21

During that first weekend in Pittsburgh, Henry and Elizabeth met Patrick on Saturday for lunch and for Mass on Sunday. Henry had come to the conclusion that he had no desire to ever go back to the house again and Patrick accepted it without question. He had his own demons associated with the house, but he just couldn't seem to get to the point that getting rid of it was better than keeping it.

Henry slowly rebuilt a relationship with his father. They weren't very close and mostly their connection was built on Stevie, but it was acceptable to Henry and Patrick was thrilled. As time passed and Alison and Jason were born, Patrick made the trek to Centreville a handful of times a year to celebrate holidays and birthdays.

They fell into a comfortable pattern. Patrick would call on the first Sunday of the month and they'd talk for a few minutes, mostly about the weather or the Steelers. Then each of the kids would take their turn at telling Grandpa the most important things that happened, most notably the events of the previous day, at least when they were young. Henry would listen to him laugh and make appropriate comments and once all three had a turn, Henry would make some parting comments and hang up. For years they did this and he had never thought too much about this ritual they'd developed until the Sunday it didn't happen.

They were just getting settled in bed and Henry sat straight up, wildly swiping the nightstand to grab his phone. "What's going on babe?" Elizabeth asked, pulled from her almost slumber.

"Today's the first Sunday, isn't it?"

"Yeah, May 6th. Why?" Elizabeth asked, pushing herself up on an elbow, watching Henry stare at his phone.

"Dad didn't call."

"Maybe he forgot," she offered.

"He's been doing this for 12 years, and hasn't missed once. What are the chances he forgot?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed. "Do you want to call him?"

"It's late. If I wake him, he'll be irritated," Henry said.

"Then let him be irritated. Tell him I was worried." She squeezed his arm and nodded toward the phone.

Henry called and got no answer.

Five days later, the five of them stood in front of the casket at the cemetery. Patrick McCord suffered a massive heart attack. He'd mentioned to a co-worker on Friday before leaving the mill that he was not feeling well. When Henry got no answer on Sunday evening, he called the police on Monday morning asking them to go by and check on his father. He received the news of his father's death mid morning.

Henry didn't think he had much connection to his dad. He'd spent many years disgusted with him and the next several trying to keep him at arm's length, but now in the wake of his death, he felt grief like he hadn't known since Tommy died. With his father buried, they headed back home with plans to return the following week to clean out the house. The kids were asleep in the back seat and Henry was driving, staring straight ahead into the horizon.

"Do you want me to drive?" Elizabeth asked softly. Henry shook his head slightly. She looped her arm under his and laced their fingers together. "What can I do?"

Henry thought about that. "I don't know that you can do anything, but just be you." She leaned over and rested her head on his arm. She could definitely do that.

It was a quiet week at the McCord home. The kids were all over the place with their emotions. One minute they were teasing each other and laughing, then next one of them would cry and it was like dominoes. Wednesday evening, Elizabeth hit the door at 7pm and was met by Henry, who quickly planted a chaste kiss on his wife's lips. "I'm going for a run," he mumbled gruffly and he was out the door.

Elizabeth found all three kids staring quietly at the TV. "Hey guys. What's up?"

The three sat quietly, but Elizabeth caught Ali elbowing Stevie, who finally spoke. "Mom, what's wrong with Dad?" Elizabeth tilted her head, questioning what her oldest was trying to get at. "It's just that sometimes he's fine and sometimes he doesn't want us to talk about Grandpa at all and sometimes he just looks mad and tonight he yelled at us because we were talking about Grandpa always being there for us." Elizabeth sighed. She had wondered how long it would take for this to happen.

"Give me a minute to change okay and I'll be back down and we can talk about it. And would someone heat me up some leftovers? I'm starving." She made her way up to the bedroom shedding her blazer along the way. Standing in front of the laundry basket, she surveyed the jacket. "Eh, it can go one more time before the dry cleaners," she muttered, hanging it back in the closet. Doing the same with her skirt, she tossed her shirt and hose into the basket and pulled on a t-shirt and pair on flannel pants. She stepped to the sink and washed her makeup off and pulled her hair up. Now that she was comfortable, she had the whole walk downstairs to figure out how to explain their father's behavior to them.

She forked a bite of pasta in her mouth and chewed slowly while three sets of eyes watched her intently. This wasn't going to work. She set the plate down on the coffee table. "Kids, we all process grief a little differently and your dad is working through it. So, if you could give him some space, I'm sure he'll be back to his normal self in a few weeks." She hoped her words were true as much for herself as the kids.

Ali and Jason got up to go finish their homework, but Stevie stayed in her spot. "Whatcha need baby?"

"Dad doesn't ever talk about when he was a kid. Is that because he and Grandpa didn't get along, and that's why he's being so weird now that Grandpa died?" Stevie held her mother's gaze. She wasn't going to back down. Elizabeth took a deep breath.

"That's not my story to tell, but I will tell you that Dad and Grandpa weren't close for a long time and yes, maybe that does have something to do with it, but I don't know and I'm waiting for your father to come to me. Grief is one of those things that you can't rush. You get through it when you get through it. The best we can do is to let the people in our lives know that we love them and are there for them."

Stevie nodded, seemingly accepting of that answer and stood to go upstairs. "Thanks Mom," she murmured, giving her mother a hug and kiss before exiting.

Elizabeth stayed in her spot and finished her pasta and waited for Henry. After an hour, she finally rose and herded the two younger children to their rooms to get ready for bed. After showers and teeth brushing and bedtime stories, the kids were asleep and Henry still wasn't home. Elizabeth was starting to get worried.

She cleaned the kitchen and checked backpacks and made lunches for the next day and still there was no sign of Henry. It was after 11 and she was almost ready to wake Stevie to tell her she was leaving to go look for him when he stumbled in the door. She rushed to him and he fell into her arms. "You've been drinking," she said, pushing him to his feet and herding him to the couch.

"Yeah, I was."

"Where did you go? You weren't driving were you?" She didn't think she heard the car leave, but there was really anywhere she could think of to get whiskey, which his breath indicated was the beverage of the evening.

"No. I ran to the gas station near the highway and drank a little, walked a little, drank a little. You get it right?"

"Yeah, I get it. Did it help?" Henry shrugged.

"I'm torn. Part of me says I didn't care. We got along because of the kids. If it hadn't been for the kids, I don't know that I would have even tried to connect with him at all. Then the other part is devastated because I don't know if he knew how much I loved him. Not once in my life, did I ever tell him that I loved him. How can I be so completely disconnected and so totally enmeshed in these feelings at the same time?"

"He knew babe. I promise. And he loved you too."

Henry looked up at Elizabeth, tears in his eyes. "How do you know?"

She took Henry's hand in her own. "Because I would catch him watching you. He always had the biggest smile on his face. The day you showed up on his doorstep when he was sure he would never see you again, he knew you were open and every time the two of you were around each other, the connection grew. I know you didn't have the ideal father/son relationship, but I think he tried really hard to be there for you these last several years and he was so attached to the kids."

"I think part of it is that I swore that I would always be open with the people I loved and I would make sure they knew how much I loved them, and I didn't do that with Dad," Henry lamented.

"It's just not the way of some relationships. Look at Will and I. I can barely get him in the same room and we can't ever have a normal conversation. If we speak for five minutes without bickering, I consider it a victory." She smiled. "Let's go to bed."

Late Friday morning they pulled up in front of Patrick's home and both Henry and Elizabeth did a double take. The home had been painted, and although the lawn hadn't been mowed that week, everything was neat and tidy. The house was adorable. "It seems that your dad had been busy. This is going to be a big project. We don't have to get it all done this weekend."

"No. I really want to be finished with it," Henry answered, somewhat distracted, still in awe of the house. "I don't ever remember the house looking this nice."

The walked up the sidewalk and unlocked the front door. Inside was arranged the same but there was new carpet and brighter paint on the walls. "It doesn't even look like the house I remember," Elizabeth murmured.

Henry wandered into the kitchen. "Hey babe. Come here." Elizabeth pushed open the swinging door and stuck her head in. There was a stack of boxes piled in the corner and Henry was opening each cabinet to find it empty. "He was packing."

Elizabeth stepped away and made her way down the hall. One bedroom was completely empty and the other had the basics. An unmade bed, dresser, desk in the corner with a stack of mail on top. Both rooms were freshly painted and had new carpet in them. She moved toward the desk and picked up the stack of mail. "Henry. I know what your dad was doing." She met him in the hallway and held up a real estate contract. "The house is supposed to go on the market next week."

Henry dialed the number on the contract and spoke to the real estate agent who agreed to meet with them later in the afternoon. In the meantime, they carried all of the boxes from the bedrooms and emptied Patrick's closet. "He really didn't have much, did he?" Henry remarked looking at the twenty or so boxes in the middle of the living room.

"No, but if he knew he was moving, he may have been getting rid of things so he didn't have to move them too. I wonder if the house was getting to be too much work."

"Maybe," Henry said, "But he never mentioned anything about wanting to move or having trouble keeping up. I don't know." Together, they started going through boxes. The vast majority of it was just run of the mill housewares, so they set it aside to be picked up for donation. As Elizabeth started going through a box from the bedroom boxes though, it held some interesting things. "Henry? Have you ever seen these?"

It was a box of pictures from Patrick and Vivian's early days together. As he leafed through them, tears welled up in his eyes. "I don't remember her ever looking like this. She looks totally different. She looks human," he whispered, unable to make the two images of his mother fit together.

"This is you?" Elizabeth asked, handing him a stack of a dozen pictures. All were taken the same day when Henry was around a year old. He flipped through them, but stopped at the one where his mother was holding him high over her head. He could tell they were both laughing. Suddenly he couldn't get enough air. He dropped the pictures and dashed outside. Elizabeth leaned over and picked the pictures up off of the floor and replaced them in the box and headed outside.

"You never believed your dad did you?" Henry turned to look at his wife. His expression was etched with pain.

"No. He said she loved me, but I didn't think it could be true. There was no way you could ever love someone and hurt them the way she hurt me-and him. I just don't get it." Henry relaxed against Elizabeth and let her comfort him.

"She was sick Henry, not right in her mind. If she had been, she wouldn't have done the awful things she did." Elizabeth held him tighter, scared for what the outcome of all these surfacing memories might be. They clung together for quite a while, lost in their own thoughts.

"Mr. and Mrs. McCord?" The voice ripped them back to the present. "I'm Carter Atwell. I had been working with your father to sell his home. I'm so very sorry to hear of his passing. I assumed that our dealings were done or I would have contacted you. My apologies." The man extended his hand to Henry and then to Elizabeth. "If you want, we can sit down and I can tell you what I discussed with Patrick and we can see if there are things you'd like to do differently."

They showed him in and had a seat at the table. Henry started the conversation. "To be honest, I wasn't aware that my father was planning a move. We only called today because we uncovered the contract when we were going through some paperwork."

Mr. Atwell looked puzzled. "He said he was planning on moving to Virginia to be closer to family. He hated being so far away. Your father had me get in touch with a real estate agent outside of DC. She was looking into smallish 2 bedroom condos for him to buy. You know something with not a lot of upkeep, but with enough room to have the grandkids over." Elizabeth reached her hand under the table and squeezed Henry's.

They discussed the current contract and both Henry and Elizabeth agreed to just keep the same terms, and they signed, promising that the house would be sold as is, with the remaining furniture included as part of the property. That way, they didn't have to try and figure out what to do with it all.

Having loaded the car with a few boxes of personal items and donating the rest, Henry and Elizabeth set out for home Sunday afternoon. They were quiet most of the drive, thinking about what they had seen and what they found out.

"I don't think you need to worry about your dad knowing that you loved him." Henry glanced over at her before returning his eyes to the road.

"Why?" he asked.

"If he was planning a move to be closer, he knew you'd be okay with it or he would've never considered it."

"Well being alright with something isn't exactly the same thing," Henry argued, although the protest was weak.

"You were alright with it because you loved him and he loved you. That's why he wanted to be closer," Elizabeth said. "I think it's really sweet." Henry nodded.

They fell into silence again until Elizabeth suddenly turned to face Henry. "I forgot. I have a confession to make."

"You forgot you have a confession?" Henry glanced over half humored and half curious.

"No, I did something a long time ago and I forgot to tell you and I found something Friday and I forgot to tell you again, so I'm telling you now." Elizabeth ran everything together to get it out in one breath. Now she found herself a little short of breath because of it. Henry kept shifting his eyes between her and the road, trying to speed the process along.

"One time, several years ago, your dad was at the house and we were watching the kids play, and he asked how I found out everything that Vivian did and I told him that you kept a journal and that it helped you work through everything."

"Okay, and?" Henry felt himself start to get impatient, and a little confused as to where she was going with this.

"And I think your dad started his own version of a diary, sort of like yours." She took a deep breath. "I found a journal in the bedside table. I think he started doing what you did. I kept it. I thought you might like to read it sometime, so I saved it."

"Oh. Maybe sometime," Henry said, brushing it off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth give him a concerned look, but she said nothing.

Over the next few weeks, Henry robotically took care of all the loose ends dealing with his father's death. The house was sold, a handful of bills were paid and as far as Henry could tell, he had no debt. After a long discussion with Elizabeth, he took the money from the sale of the house and they put it into a trust for the kids' college expenses. He thought Patrick would be happy with that. Everything seemed to be settled-that is everything except Henry himself. He felt anything but settled.

It was the fourth night in a row that Henry woke shortly after going to sleep and he just couldn't get comfortable. He tossed and turned for about an hour until he heard Elizabeth mumble in her sleep and he knew that he was keeping her from sleeping well. Pulling himself to sit on the edge of the bed, the leather bound journal on the corner of his nightstand caught his eye. Elizabeth had placed his father's journal there just after they came back from the house emptying expedition. He had looked at it twice a day every day for the past three months. Originally the thought of what he might discover if he opened it scared him. Then, he decided that not knowing was better than knowing and not being able to do anything about it. But, tonight was different. Tonight, he was curious. He and his father never had the type of relationship to talk about feelings, and most of the time, he didn't want to know how his father felt, but tonight he was ready. He wrapped his fingers around the book and stood, trudging off toward the living room.

As he read, his heart hurt. His own entries had the common theme of confusion and then anger. What had he done to deserve his mother's treatment of him? Patrick's entries were full of sadness and longing for a life that he once had that dissolved with the death of his second son. With each account of abuse, seemingly more horrific than the last, was the idea that he would endure it so Henry wouldn't have to. Henry finally got a glimpse of why Patrick was the way he was. The majority of his adult life was spent walking an invisible line-trying to keep his wife on an even keel, his son safe, and working to appear like he had a normal life outside the home. He spent his life emotionally exhausted and terrified about what would happen if anyone found out.

It was about an hour later when a sleepy eyed Elizabeth appeared at the foot of the stairs. Henry pulled his eyes from the page. She surveyed him. "You didn't wake me," she said softly.

"No. I wanted to do this alone." The tears that had been building for the last hour finally pushed their way out and rolled down his face.

"You sat with me when I read yours. I'd like to be with you."

"I slept," he said.

"I can sleep," she murmured, making her way to him. Henry shifted to sit sideways on the couch and allowed Elizabeth to curl up against his chest. She pulled a blanket over them, and Henry went back to reading.

Daylight peeked through the windows when Henry finally finished and closed his father's journal. He tightened his grip on Elizabeth and her eyes fluttered open. "How are you doing?"

The corners of his mouth turned up in small, sad smile. "Dad and I were much more alike than I ever wanted to admit. The difference was that he knew love and was desperately trying to hold onto it and I never knew love and had to learn how to."

Elizabeth pushed herself up so she could reach his lips. She kissed him thoroughly and let her head rest on his shoulder, placing tiny kisses on his neck.

"Dad liked you a lot," Henry said moving to kiss the top of her head.

"I liked him too."

"We were both so broken-" Henry started.

"I think everyone is broken in some way," Elizabeth interrupted.

"Maybe, but in our case, your love mended us. You showed me love and compassion when I probably didn't deserve it and wasn't ready to receive it. Because of that, I was strong enough to take that leap for Dad and it healed both of us."

Elizabeth tilted her head back to look at Henry. "I'm glad you had that chance. It was good for all of us. And we've created a legacy of love for our kids."

"That we have." Henry pulled his wife closer and thanked God for the opportunity to be broken and mended.


End file.
